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A COLORADO DRAMA IN THREE ACTS. 




ILLUSTRATIVE OF EARLy DAYS AIONG THE IINES, 



y 



By frank p. WARNER. 



COPYRIGHTED— ALL EIGHTS RESERVED. 



th::k! 



TWO BONANZAS, 



A COLORADO DRAMA IN THREE ACTS. 



ILLUSTRATIVE OF EARLY DAYS AMONG THE MINES. 



By frank p. WARNER. 



COPYBIGHTED— ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. 



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DENVER: «^ 

Tribune-Republican Print. 



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TMP92-007540 



THE TWO BONANZAS, 

A COLORADO DRAMA IN THREE ACTS. 



By frank p. WARNER. 

DRAMATIS PEESON^E. 

EPH CONVERSE A Mountaineer 

FRANK LEFFINGWELL A Prospector 

FELIPE A Halfbreed 

J. Q. A. Van PELTZINGER Exquisite Knickerbocker 

BURKE NASSGAR A Villain 

JAKE OUSK'K; A Villain 

PEDRO BARDITO Italian Boss 

WALLACE DL'NDAS Father to Eva 

JUANITA, (Maniacj Wife to Nossgar 

EVA DUNDAS In Love with Frank 

MADELINA FERRARA An Orange Girl 

MRS. DUNDAS Mother to Eva 

Magistrate, Policeman, Bootblack, Fish Peddler, Servant, Oflicer, 
Etc. 



Produced bcfoi c publication at Rosita and Sil- 
ver Cliff loith the follozviug cast: 

EPH CONVERSE, Frank P. Warner 

( Guv A. Adams 

FRANK LEFFINGWELL, \ 

I Geo Bracket! 

FELIPE Jas. S. Blair 

VAN PELTZINGER, Frank A. Tuttle 

Dr. W. R. Roup 

BURKE NASSGAR, John Thomas 

( Sam. N. Johnson 

JAKE CUSICK \ 

\ G. C. Thompson 

PEDRO BARDITO, Thos. E. E. Holt 

( W. R. Roup 

WALLACE DUNDAS \ 

(.Geo. Brackett 

JUANITA Hattie Holt 

( Jennie Swanson 

EVA DUNDAS, \ 

y Mae Smith 

MADELINA, Anna Learning 

( Nellie V. Johnson 

MRS. DUNDAS, \ 

( Mrs. W. R. Roup 

POLICEMAN, Sam. C. Kohl 

BOOTBLACK Master John W. Warner 



rPHE TWO BONANZAS. 



ACT I. 

SCEXE 1. Interior of Dundas' Cottcif/e at Alines. — Mrs. 
Dundas and Eva discovered. 

Mrs. D. I would say more, and do more, to help rid 
you of those two suitors, Eva, but you know I am not 
strong as I once was, and your father is so — so violent 
whenever I mention it to him. Your father is so 
changed. Only a few months ago he was so kind and 
considerate; but, dear, we must not judge him harshly. 
I am sure he loves us, and would not purposely give us 
pain ; but he has so mucli to worry and harass him. We 
must remember his kindness in days gone by, and bear 
with his humors as patiently as we can. You will, won't 
you, daughter? 

Eva. I will try, mother. I have always tried. But 
I think the odious smirks and smiles of Burke Nassgar, 
and papa's never-ending praises of that silly Van Peltzin- 
ger, have made me miserable long enough. Papa used to 
take me in his arms, and call me his baby ; but now he 
seems to think i was ))oru only to vex and displease him 
with obstinacy. Well, I am obstinate — as obstinate as 
the little needle in the compass. Burke Nassgar I hate, 
and papa's pet, John Quincy Adams Van Peltzinger, I 
despise. Papa knows Burke Na.ssgar is not a good man, 
yet I believe he would have me marry him rather than 
Frank Leffingwell, who is everything that is good, and 
brave, and manly. 

Mrs. D. P^va, pray, please do not talk so. You must 
cultivate patience and mildness of manner. You have 
grievances, and so have I ; but you should remember, 
dear, that a show of spirit, or an exhibition of temper, 
was never reckoned among the attributes of a lady. 



THE TWO BOXAXZAS. 



Eva. I know 1 should not say it, but — I hate ladies 
— most of them. I do not know anything that is so list- 
less, so stupidly docile, so cold, so passive, so lacking in 
mind and soul and womanhood as a lady. I like a man 
who is manly ; or a woman who is womanly — but ladies 
— faugh! Van Peltzinger is lady-like, and it is for that 
I despise him. I would rather wed Felipe, the half-breed, 
because he is brave and strong. He fights the bears with 
his gun and knife, and wrests a living from the inhospit- 
able forest, without the aid of an inheritance from his 
fathers. Felipe, the half-breed, is a man, and Van Peltz- 
inger isn't ; that is the difference. And while I would 
remain single, to please papa, if I marry at all, I have 
always said I would never marry anything but a man; 
and in that good resolution I am — obstinate. 

Mrs. I). My dearest daughter, you know you have 
my sympathy. I am sure Frank Leffingwell is worthy of 
you, but what can we do ? We would not dare — we must 
not think of open and avowed disobedience. That is 
terrible to think of. 

Eva. I know it is, mother, and I would not think of 
such a thing, except as a last resort ; but if pa])a's ulti- 
mate terms include my marriage with that silly nonentity, 
my ultimate course will be open and avowed refusal. 
This is not a rash determination. I have considered 
everything ; I have explored every avenue that ofiered 
the least promise of escape, and having reached this 
conclusion, 1 will act in accordance with it. 

Mrs. D. Eemember he is your father, Eva. 

Eva. I do remember it ; and he ought to remember 
that I am his daughter. 

Mrs. D. Oh, Eva, you are so like him, and — you - 
frighten me! 

Eva. {Crosses to Mrs. I). ) Well, there, I will not 
frighten you again, you best little mother in the world. 
{Kisses her.) There, I am not undutiful, am F? I do love 
you, and papa, too, don't I? But — I wouldn't marry Mr. 
Van Peltzinger, would you ? 

Mrs. D. No — at least — I — you know, dear, I do not 
like him, but — ^I fear you do not need encouragement in 
your opposition to your father's wishes. When did you 
hear from Frank, and what is he doing ? 

Eva. I had a letter from him yesterday — such a good 
letter. He says he and Eph Converse work in their 
tunnel until midnight, sometimes, because, he says, he is 
working to earn me, and feels that every stroke brings me 
.that much nearer. Isn't he good, mother, and could you 



THE TWO BONANZAS. 



help loving him? And isn't it too bad that every letter 
he writes brings a blush of shame to my cheeks? I some- 
times wonder that he cares for me at all. 

Mrs. D. What do you mean, child? 

Eva. I mean that every letter he writes, telling me 
how he works, and how hopeful he is, reminds me of the 
awful opinion he must have of my father. They seem to 
say " your father is sordid and selfish, and admires men 
only for the gold they can count. If I do not make haste 
and win you with a fortune, he will sacrifice your happi- 
ness and mine to some man who has money." O, mother, 
his letters do seem a reproach to us all. 
{Enter Dundas.) 

DuNDAS. There was a time when a few of the things 
I undertook would turn out right; but I will make affi- 
davit that everything I have touched within the last three 
months has done its very best to aggravate and delay. 

Mrs. D. What is it now, Wallace? 

Dundas. Oh, what is it now ? It's everything ! Van 
Peltzinger was to have been here yesterday to conclude 
his negotiations for the Eva D. mine, and here, the coach 
is in and he hasn't arrived to-day. I told Frank Leffing- 
well, when he recorded the Eva D., to put it in my name, 
and I would give him my half of all our other prospects ; 
and, as he made no objection I supposed he would do so. 
The fact is, I wanted to be rid of him. A week ago I 
went down to the county seat and had a deed to the prop- 
erty made from myself to the A"an Peltzinger Mining 
Company, so that everything would be ready, and to-day 
the county clerk sends me an abstract showing that I own 
one-half the Eva D., and Eva, there, owns the other half. 
And here is a note from Frank Leffingwell saying he con- 
cluded not to trade me the half interest, but that he has 
given his interest to my daughter, as I will find by refer- 
ence to the records. Now the deed will have to be made 
over again, in Eva's name, as well as mine, and that will 
require another trip to the county seat. I never had such 
luck before in my life. 

Mrs. D. How is the mine looking to-day, Wallace? 

Dundas. Looking ? Look at that ! (Showing speci- 
men. ) A four-foot vein, and it's worth a dollar a pound, 
if it's worth a cent. It gets better and better, and if I 
didn't want to get out of these mountains and away from 
Frank Leffingwell, I'd see the Van Peltzinger Mining 
Company blessed before it should have that mine, even at 
$500,000. It's worth a solid million ; and if that vein 



THE TWO BONANZAS. 



keeps widening, and Van Peltzinger doesn't come soon, it 
will cost him that to get it too, because I am tired of this 
eternal trifling. 

Mrs. D. How lucky that it is looking so well. 

Eva. Why, yes, papa, one would think you ought to 
be in the best humor in the world at such luck as that. 

DuNDAS. Luck, is it? You women seem delighted 
at an opportunity to anger me. There is no luck about 
it, it's good management. Why should I ofl'er Frank 
Leflingwell my half of twenty other claims for the Eva D. 
if I didn't know she would he a great mine ? AVhy should 
I encourage my friends in the East to organize and stock 
her, if I didn't know she would prove a bonanza ? Luck ? 
All the luck I have had lately, thanks to Frank Lefling- 
well and Eva, there, has been against me ; but, by good 
management, I flatter myself, I can defeat even a run of 
bad luck. 

Eva. Well, papa, I do not see why you should refer 
so contemptuously to Frank Leflingwell, or to me, either. 
Frank <liscovered the first half for you, and has given you 
the other half through me. I do not see how we have 
been responsible for any bad luck. 

Dundas. I didn't expect you would see it. It isn't 
necessary that you should see it. Frank discovered the 
property, yes ; and because he was prospecting at the time 
on provisions furnished by me, one-half of it was mine — 
I fancy that was my arrangement, all of it. Then he 
hasn't business tact enough to see there is a fortune in it, 
so he gives the other half away, simply to make a pretty 
impression upon you. A man who can't take care of what 
he gets, is no man for me. 

Mrs. D. Do not do the young man injustice, Wallace ; 
you know he named the mine for Eva, because, he said, 
he believed it would i)rove the gem of the mountains. 
You rememl)er, don't you ? 

Dundas. Oh, yes, I remember altogether too much 
of his sentimental nonsense. But why did he give it up 
so readily ; that's M'hat I want to know ? 

Eva. And I think I can tell you. 

Dundas. Well ? 

Eva. He would not have traded it to you if it had 
been as barren as granite ; and he ivould have given it to 
me if it had been a hundred-foot vein, and worth a hun- 
dred dollars a pound. Mr. Leflingwell is not here to 
answer for himself, but you may rely upon that answer as 
being substantially correct. 



THE TWO BONANZAS. 



{Enter Eph Converse.) 

Eph. Kerrect, with a big K, is it, Miss Eva ? How'd 
deAv? Ilow'd dew {to Mm. I).) Miss Diindas? How'd 
dew, Gov'nor? How ye all niakin' it? Me? Oh, I git 
older every day, an' the more I work the more I git done, 
is about the only news I've got to tell ye. {Eva i>ets chair.) 
Yaas, I'll set down a minute, but you needn't 'a bothered, 
I could 'a got a cheer. I jist come over to git a little 
assayin' done. Frank, he's run out o' chemicalitics, or 
he'd 'a done it hisself — he kin make jist as scienterrific 
an assay as anybody, when he's got the hereditaments to 
do it with. Yaas, we got into a little streak o' quartz 'at 
we kinder thought we'd like to have assayed — we don't 
want no millrun — only a kind of a animalculae test is all. 
Well, how's everything? 

DuNUAS. Slow enough, as far as I am concerned. 

Mks. D. Oh, we are all well, Eph, and full of hope. 

Eph. So 'm I. I'm fuller o' hope 'n I am o' victuals 
about half the time. But it's a powerful good thing, 
hope is. Makes a fool of a man a heap o' times; but 
after you make a fool of 'im, it don't take much to make 
'im happy, that's one advantage. How is it with you, 
Miss Evy ? 

Eva. I am quite well, thank you, Eph, and I am 
beginning to feel of some importance since I have become 
a mine owner. You must know I only just now learned 
that I own one-half the Eva I). 

Eph. Xo ? 

Eva. Yes, indeed. 

Eph. 'M b' gosh ! 

DuNDAS. Eph, may I ask you a question ? 

Eph. Why, yes, you can't ax me anything else. 

Dtjndas. And will you answer it truthfully ? 

Eph. Waal, I'll take an' tell ye: If I concluded it 
was to my intrust, I might turn loose an' lie till ye'd 
think ye' smelt brimstone around hyar ; but if I felt 
totally "discominterested, I'd answer ye just as straight 
an' true as I'm a poor benighted sinner in a Avicked world 
without a dollar in his pocket. 

DuNDAS. It is this: What did Frank Leffingwell 
think of the Eva D, at the time he gave the half-interest 
to my daughter? 

Eph. Her? He said he thought she was the sweet- 
est, an' purest, an' best 

DuNDAS. No, I mean the mine? 



THE TWO BONANZAS. 



Eph. Oh, the mine? Wh)-, he — well, he Well, 

I'll take an' tell ye : He told me, confidentially, it wasn't 
worth two hoops in Colorado City — he did, b'gosli. 

Eva. Eph Converse, you are lying. 

DuNDAS. Ha, ha, ha ! You hear that, Eva? You 
hear that, mother ? I knew it. You are an honest 
fellow, Eph, and I am glad you came in. Come in 
whenever you feel like it, I am always glad to have you ; 
and if you ever need any help you can dei>end upon me. 

Eph. Oh, yer welcome — I mean, I'm nuich obliged 
to you. Yaas, I will. I'll take an' drop in whenever I 
happen to be over. But say, Gov'nor, I'm in partnership 
with Frank, now, an' I'd kinder like to know, ye know,- — 
when did you quit gruh-stakin' Frank ? I mean, when 
did he quit prospectin' for you on the halves ? 

DuNDAS. The first of last month. I wish you joy 
of him, but I was glad to be rid of him, and you may 
tell him so. 

Eph. Oh, I will — yaas, I'll take an' tell him, but he 
won't keer a durn, 'taint likely — he never does. But 
say-— liyar I been a fergittin' it — there was a feller over 
at the mine in a kerridge, as I come by, an' he told me 
to tell ye to come over, right away. 

DuNDAS {excitedly). Do you know him, Eph ? 

Eph — Yaas, it was that thin-legged thick-head 'at was 
out hyar a while back — Van Sweetsinger, or whatever his 
name is. 

DuNDAS. Van Peltzinger ? Good! Mother, see that 
a good meal is spread ; and Eva, sleek yourself up a bit 
— I will go right over. Excuse me, Eph — {hurries off, R.) 

Eph." Oh, I will, I will. 

Mrs. D. And Excuse me, Eph — I mean Mr. Con- 
verse, I always call you Eph — I must go to the kitchen. 

Eph. Eph, or Mr. Converse, it's all one, as Aunt 
Phenaria said, the time she got the first glimpse o' the 
Chinese twins — it's all one. 

Mrs. D. {to Eva). I want to speak with you pres- 
ently, dear. 

Eva. Well. {Exit Mrs. i>., L.) 

Eph. An' now. Miss Evy, hyar's another letter fer 
you, from Frank ; an' I don't want you to disrupt me 
while I'm talkin', 'cause I got a heap to say, an' I wan't 
to talk fast. Ye see- 

Eva. You are very good, Eph ; but let me ask you, 
why did you tell papa that Frank thought he was making 



THE TWO BOXANZAS 



me a present of un interest in a mine tluitwas worthless? 
Eph. Oh, he, he, ha, ha, lia ! I know'd it. Now let 
me take an' tell ye: Whenever a man axes ye a fool 
question, if ye want to do him a good turn, answer it the 
way it ort to be answered ; but il' ye want him to do yoii, 
a good turn, then answer it the way ye know he wants to 
hear it answered, an' he's yer friend Irom that time on. 
'Tain't good morals, likely, but 1 guarantee it /.s good 
sense. That was my plan, and ye see the next breath he 
fetched he called me honest ; said he'd help me if 1 ever 
needed it, and told me to drop in whenever I come over. 
Ye see, 1 kin bring ye letters by the ton, now, if I want 
to. Never do you mind. The Eva D. is goin' to make 
ye all rich, an' Frank an' me both know'd it. The lead's 
blind irom hyar on, but it runs through the mountain, an' 
Frank an' me's goin' to git it on the other side. Now, 
I'll take an' tell ye : The old Gov'nor thinks he's runnin' 
things terrible secret, but I know a good deal about what's 
goin' on. He's got three or lour feet of stufi thar that's 
pnrty nigh good enough, what there is of it; an' thar's 
purty nigh enough of it, sich as it is. Now, if he sells, 
which he's purty middlin apt to do, you'll have to sign a 
deed to your half interest ; an' if the deed ain't to be 
signed till you git to New York, why you go right along 
an' 

Eva. Why, Eph, we are not going to New York, are 
we ? 

ErH. Yaas, ye are ; the old Gov'nor's goin" to take 
you an' the old lady to New York, as .soon as the sale's 
made, an' mebbe before ; but vlf)n't disrupt me. As I was 
sayin' — what was I sayin'? — why, he's goin' to take you 
to New York so's you'll drop Frank an' marry that Van 
Pelt-his-sister 

Eva. I will not do it. 

Eph. Neither will I — er— but don't disinterrupt me 
agin, you're gittin' me all absalombarrassed — as I w'as 
sayin', if the deed ain't to be signed till ye git to New 
York, you go right on an' sign 'era, an' I'll fix things all 
right; but if it's to be signed hyar, afore ye start, yon 
manage to let me know the evenin' before you sign. Now 
ye think you've got ii through your noddle all straight? 

Eva. Yes. If the deed is to be signed here, I must 
let you know the evening before I sign it. That is all I 
have to remember, is n't it ? 

Eph. 'LI b' gosh ! 

Eva. What? 



12 THE TWO BONANZAS. 

Eph. In course, that's all. But — say, it don't take a 
woman more'n 'bout half as long to say a heap as it does 
a man, does it ? 

Eva. No. And I see you are gifted with one of the 
traits peculiar to your sex. 

Eph {surveying himself ). Me? 

Eva. Yes. 

Eph. No ; what's that ? 

Eva. Flattery. 

Eph. Oho ! No, I look a good deal flatter'n I really 
am ; 1 weigh a hundred and sixty. But I reckon I'll 
have to tear myself away, as Jacob said when Esau got 
after him. Somebody' 11 be a comin'. 

Eva. Yes, and I want to read my letter. 

Eph. Sartinly, with a big S. An' say. Miss Evy* 
I'll be purty sure to bring ye a new one every time I | 
come. ] 

Eva. Thank you, Eph, you are a hero, and I am i 
going to kiss your honest hand. (Eva takes his hand ; Eph i 
snatches it away, wipes it 6n buckskin blouse, then permits Eva \ 
to kiss it.) ' 

I]pH (holding sleeve back'^. 'M b' gosh ! 

Eva. What? 

Eph. I come purty nigh takin' that off'n there, an' j 
if I had it 'd been grand larceny of the goods and chat- 
tels of one Frank Leffingwell, as 'Squire Wattikins used i 
to say, wouldn't it ? ' 

Eva. No; that is yours. I will give Frank his i 
myself. j 

Eph (still holding sleeve back). 'M b' gosh ! (Exit B.) '. 

(Eva reads letter ; slow curtain ; only one strain ' 

of music.) 

Scene 2. — Same. Eva discovered. \ 

Eva. Oh, such good fortune. Darling old Eph, it is j 
no wonder you was so jolly and full of antics. My poorj 
Frank — poor no longer — rich, rich at last. And I must | 
not tell even poor mother. I do want to tell her, but I 
must read it again : "We came upon the long expected 
lead, at about ten o'clock the night before last, and, 
although I was eager to send you the good news, I 
thought best to wait imtil we ascertained the extent of 
the ore body. I am almost afraid to tell you the whole 
truth; but it is much better than we had any reason to 



THE TWO BONANZAS. IS 



hope for, and I am rich. We have named this mine the 
Eva L., which is some day, I hope, to be the name of the 
one — the only one — who lias a place in the heart of, your 
Frank." Isn't it too good ! If I only dared run out doors 
and shout and make a noise. Perhaps he is richer, even, 
than Mr. Van Peltzinger. I never was in such good 
humor with the whole world. But who comes? Ah, it 

is that Xassgar. Let liim come. I can endure all 

things, now. 

{Enter Burke i^fassgar.) 

Nassgar. Ah, good morning, Miss Eva. All alone, 
and enjoying good company, eh ? 

Eva. Oh, yes. Did you want to see papa? He is 
over at the mine. 

Na8S(;ar. I know it ; I have just left him. No, I 
am idle for half an hour, and thinking company, even as 
poor as mine, might be thought better than none, I came 
over ; besides, I have something I want to say to you. 

Eva. Is it possible ? lam dying to hear it. Now 
do not keep me in suspense — out with it. 

Nassgar. Well, Miss Eva, since you are so encour- 
aging, I will tell you frankly. I am in love. 

Eva. Oh, pshaw ; that is nothing. So am I. 

Nassgar. I feared some such answer, for he would 
be blind who could not see the foolish fancy you enter- 
tain for a fellow of my acquaintance. Eva, I have come 
to warn you — he is not Avorthy of you. 

Eva. Yes ? Now, if you will tell me for whom you 
are so unfortunate as to have a foolish fancy, I will return 
your favor and repay counsel for counsel. 

Nassgar. Mine is not a foolish fancy. You must 
know — you do know, Eva — I love you deeply, devotedly. 
I know I am not worthy so priceless a jewel, but I am 
not altogether bad, and I will make it the task of my life 
to contribute to your happiness if you will only give me 
the right to hope. 

Eva. Your opinion of me is not a flattering one, Mr. 
Nassgar. You are pleased to speak of my attachment as 
a foolish fancy, while you credit yourself with a capa- 
bility to love deeply and devotedly. It is not kind of 
you, Mr. Nassgar. 

Nassgar. But, Eva 

Eva. Miss Dundas, Mr. Nassgar. 

Nassgar. I did not mean any affront ; I only hoped 
it was a foolish fancy — nothing more. 



I HE TWO BONANZAS. 



KvA. I will not triHe with you, Mr. Nassgar; you 
will like it better if I speak plainly. I have a foolish 
fancy, if you please to term it so — such a foolish fancy 
that I do not think I could fancy yon at all. Now let us 
change the subject. 

Nassgak. Do yon know Frank Leffingwell ? 

Eva, I have seen him freqently. 

Nassgar. Do you know that while he was prospect- 
ing for your father he discovered the Eva L. mine, sup- 
posed to be richer, even, than the Eva D. ; that he kept 
tliat discovery a secret until he and your father dissolved 
jjartnership, that he might cheat him out of his interest?- 
Did you know that ? 

Eva. You are too communicative, Mr. Nassgar. If 
you will go, now, you will save nie the trouble of order- 
ing you out. 

Nassgar. Let me explain. 

Eva. Your explanation could not possibly interest 
me. The sooner you favor me with your absence, the 
more favorably I shall think of you. 

Nassgar. Allow me time to 

Eva. No, sir ; go now. 

Nassgar. Y(ju may live to be sorry for this inter- 
view, Migs Dundas. 

Eva. I was sorry when I saw you intended to force 
it upon me. So you see that prophecy was fulfilled before 
it was made. 

Nassgar. You jest, but — remember I remember I 
(Exit.) 

Eva. Are you not gone yet ? I should not have been 
angry with him, hateful as he is, if he had not resorted 
to falsehood. I never saw such silly beings as men are, 
to be always falling in love. Now, when I have con- 
cluded with Mr. Van Peltzinger, I presume I shall have 
a respite, for awhile, at least. He will come with papa, 
I have no doubt, and I shall — oh, I have it ! I have it ! 
I will affect undue familiarity, and disenchant him by 
shocking his delicate sense of propriety. I will chew gum 
and talk just as boisterously as I can. I am almost eager 
for him to come, for I am in high spirits to-night— and 
here they are. 

{Enter Dundas and Van Peltzinger.) 

Dundas. Walk in, Van. Eva, daughter, here is our 
old friend, Mr. Van Peltzinger. 

Van. Ah, Miss Eva, 'm delighted, 'm suah. 



THE TWO BONANZAS. 



Eva. {Cheiving gum vigorously.) Hello, Van, when 
did you come in ? 

Van. {Taken aback.) Awived about an houah ago. 
Ah, I hope you are quite well, Miss — ah — Miss Dundas. 

Eva. {Aside.^ Miss Dundas— good. {Aloud.) Oh, 
la, yes ; I reckon I demolish more chuck than any other 
two people in the lay-out. 

Dundas. {Aside to Eva.) Eva, what is the matter? 

Van. (Aside to Dundas.) Ah, what did she observe, 
Mr. Dundas. 

Dundas. Oh, she is an unruly girl, Van ; she was 
giving you a taste of western slang, which, being inter- 
preted, as the Bible says, means that she is able to eat as 
much as any other two members of the family. 

Van. Oh. ha, ha, ha, ha, pvvetty good, I assho you. 
I am glad, Miss Eva, to find you so well. Ha, ha, ha ! 
Ah, how is your mother ? 

Eva. Oh, she's feeling 'way up. 

Van. Ah — beg pai-don — doing what? 

Eva. She's all hunkidori, f(ir lier — you know she 
never was stouter than an ox team. 

Van. Ah, no, I suppose not. 

Dundas. Eva, will you see how soon dinner will be 
ready ? 

Eva. Why, yes ; but I'd ratlier you'd go, I want to 
talk to Van. 

Dundas. No, go at once ; ]Mr. Van Peltzinger is 
hungry, I am sure. 

Van. Not at all. Do not hurry on my account, I 
pway you. 

Eva. All right, I'll go see. Excuse me. Van, I will 
chin you a little after you have dined. 

Van. Certainly, certainly. {Aside.) I wondah if 
she is in her wight mind. 

Dundas. I ought to have told you, Van, my daughter 
has a kind of passing fancy for a beggarly miner who 
used to work for me. He is a low fellow, and I have for- 
bidden her having anything to do with him. That ac- 
counts for her outrageous conduct this evening. 

Van. Ah, I feali I do not fully undahstand. 

Dundas. I will explain. She is full of resources, if 
I do say it, but I understand her tactics. She is deter- 
mined to disgust you with her vulgar conduct, so that 
you will not press your suit — do you see ? 



]6 THE TWO BONANZAS. 



Van. All, do you think so? 

DuNDAS. I am sure of it. 

Van. Ha, ha, ha I quite clevali, I declare. 

DuNDAS. But we must clieckmate her. Now do you 
pay no attention to her assumed eccentricities, exhibit no 
surprise, make yourself as agreeable as possible, and we 
will defeat the minx at her own game. 

Van. Good ideah, pon my honah ; I am only too 
glad to favah the expewiment. 

DuNDAS. Very good. Now, as to the other business, 
you say there is no doubt the company will pay the 
money as soon as we arrive in New York and the deeds 
can be made out and delivered. It is short notice to my 
family, but if possible we will start to-morrow. I have 
one very particular reason for wishing to start at once ; 
[ want to get away before Frank Leffingwell (Eva appears 
back) and my daughtbr can have any opportunity to 
communicate with each other. I will inform Nassgar 
and leave the mine in his hands during my absence. 
How will to-morrow suit your convenience? Of course 
we must have you along whenever we go. 

Van. Oh, certainly, at any time — I can go at any 
time. 

DuNDAS. Then we will start for New York to-mor- 
row morning ; and as between you and me, Frank Leffing- 
well, as the prize-fighters say, "may the best man win." 
{Enter Eva.) 

Eva. Everything is waiting and I expect you will 
both feel more ^sociable after you get outside of some 
hash. You go ahead, I am going to stir up the dust on 
tliis furniture a little. 

DuNDAS. Yes, come on, Xnn, I am as hungry as 
the proverbial wolf. 

Van. Ah, with pleasuah. {Exit D. and Van P.) 

Eva. Oh, ha, ha, ha, ha ! I wonder what the elegant 
knickerbocker thinks of his wildwood rose by this time. 
[Imitatinrj him.) "Ah, 'm delighted, 'm suah !" Ha, ha, 
if I only had a photograph of the wild surprise on his 
aristocratic countenance when I shook hands with him, 
it would be worth a place in a gilt frame. Now if papa 
only knew that I overheard his plan for starting to New 
York so suddenly — but he doesn't — so I can write f rank 
a good, long letter, and when he is in possession of all 
the facts, as papa says, " may the best man win." 
[CURTAIN,] 



THE TWO BONANZAS. 17 

Scene 3. — Interior of Frank Leffingwell's Cabin. — Frank 
discovered reclining on bunk with newqyaper. 

Frank. {Looking at watch.) Half-past nine. Time 
Epli was here. Being up the last two nights leaves me 
as drowsy as an owl. If he doesn't come soon he will 
find me asleep. It is only the hope that he will bring 
me a line from Eva that keeps me awake at all. Frank, 
my boy, you have been a fool. How many times have 
you said you could never admire a strong-minded woman ? 
And here you are just worshipping a little woman with 
a mind so compact, and strong ; so keen and comprehen- 
sive that it puts you to your best efforts to follow it, 
strong man as you are. But she is different from most 
strong-minded women, I will say that. Diflei-ent? 
humph ! so different fi'om all other women that it seems 
sacrilege to tolerate a comparison. So sweet, so grace- 
ful, so captivatingly honest and frank, so true and — 
(Enter Eph.) 

Eph. 'M h' gosh ! 

Frank. Who's — Eph, you've got into a detestable 
habit lately, do you know it ? 

Eph. Me? No, what's that? 

Frank. Whj^, breaking in upon other people's rev- 
eries without so nuich as whistling to announce your 
coming, and if you don't stop it I am going to raise an 
insurrection around here. 

Eph. Haw, haw, sweet, one; graceful, two; cap- 
tivating, three; honest, four; frank, five; true, six; and 
ye hadn't only just begun to git started, had ye? Well, 
enough 's a plenty, as the nigger said when he got — 

Frank. Well, never mind the nigger ; did you 
bring me a letter ? 

Eph. Yaas, I went around to our little private post- 
ofEce, an' looked in, an' thar laid a little letter snugger'n 
a rugged bug in a buggy rug, an' I intermediately 
laid holt and purveyed it to innermost reensitations of 
my dishabiliments. An' say — at first I was goin' to put 
your letter in, an' let Miss Evy come an' git it ; an' then, 
thinks I, I'll jist walk over to the house an' see if I can't 
git a chance to give it to her myself — I wanted to see 
the old man, anyhow — an' say — he didn't kick me out. 
He didn't make no dilemonstrations in that direction. 
He was glad to see me. I walks in, ye know, an' — 

Frank. Don't forget that I am waiting for that 
letter, Eph. 



18 THE TWO BONANZAS. 

Eph. Yaas, I was jist lookin' fer it. (Searches pock- 
ets.^ As I was savin', 1 walks into the house, ye know, 
life size, but innercent like an — but say — 1 told the old 
gov'nor the biggest, fattest, over-grownedest squab of a 
lie that's ever took place since the time of Ananiarias of 
holy writ. ''Eph," says he, "I want to ax ye a question." 
" Peel away," says I ; says he, " I want to know what 
Frank Leffingwell thought of the f^va D. mine, time he 
give the half interest to my daughter ?" " Well, sir," 
says 1, " he told me confidenshally 'at it was not worth a 
forged check on a sand bank," an' you'd adjed to 'a seen 
the old sinner laugh an' git friendly. That's the only 
way to git solid with them kind o' old men — help 'em 
deceive theirselves, when you see tliey've set their hearts 
on bein' deceived. Why, after I told him that lie he 
called me honest, said he'd help me when I needed it, 
told me to call in whenever I go over, and I believe he 
was goin' to ax me out in the pantry to take a drink o' 
liquor {sighs heavily), but he forgot it most likely. But 
the way I kin carry letters in thar, now, will be a sin an' 
a shame ; I can carry 'em in by the bushel. 

Frank. Well, Eph, if you have a letter for me I 
would like to see it ; I can listen to the other news after- 
ward. 

Eph. Yaas, I'm a gittin' it (scar':hes pockets) — an' 
say ^ I had anotlier reason for wantin' to go to tlie house, 
I wanted to git the old man to commit hisself solid on 
this Eva L. After I got him to feelin' good, thinks I, 
I'll jist make sure you don't lay no claim to no intrust 
in our new diskivery, so I looks as meek an' mild as a 
little bit of a new-born chick on a half shell, an' says I, 
"gov'nor" — you know he likes to be called gov'nor, says 
I, "gov'nor, when did Frank I^effingweli quit prospectin' 
for you on the halves?" "The first of last month, an' 
I am glad to be rid of him, and you may tell him so," 
says he. " Well, sir," says I, "Frank wont kyar a darn" 
— I couldn't help it — • It jist kinder slipped out afore I 
could shut my teeth on it. 

Frank. Let me look for that letter, Eph. 

Eph. No, I kin git it. (Searches pockets.) Well, sir, 
purty soon I happened to think an' told the old man 
that Van what's-his-name had come, an' so he pulls for 
the mine, and the old lady she peels fer the kitchen — 
she done that a purpose to give me a chance to talk with 
Miss Evy all by her — say, b' gosh. 

Frank. Well ? 

Eph. If that aint the combined-est luck ! 



THE TWO BONANZAS. 



Frank. Did you lose that letter? 

Eph. Naw — when I give Miss Evy your letter an' 
told her I'd try and bring her a new one every time I 
come, she grabbed my hand an' put a kiss on it right 
thar ; but it slipped my mind, and hyar I bin rubbin' 
it all over my clothes. 

Frank. Well, I'll be rubbing you all over the floor 
•of this cabin if you do not go through those pockets a 
little more rapidly. 

ErH. That's so, b' gosh, tliere she is (gives Frank 
letter.) 

Frank. (Reading.} " Ephraim Converse, Esq." 
This is for you. 

Eph. Does it say ihat ? 

Frank. Yes. 

Eph. Not 'Squire? 

Frank. Yes, Es(iuire--is this the onlv letter vou 
got? 

Eph. Naw, that must be the one I got onto' the 
reglar postoffice, or mebbe Miss Evy's fell in love with 
me, haw, haw, b' gosh, I was afeard o' that. 'Squire, hey, 
what does it say ? 

Frank. It is from the County Clerk. (Beads.) 
" Dear Sir : Find enclosed location certificate Eva L. 
lode claim. You will see by endorsement on back that 
the certificate is duly recorded in Book F, page 323; also 
that fee for recording same is duly receipted. Resp., B. 
D. Griswold, County Clerk and Recorder." "Well, Eph. 
this letter is almost as welcome as the other. This com- 
pletes our title to the Eva L. She is all staked, the as- 
sessment work done, surveyed, recorded, and everything 
in accordance witli law. Now, if you have found that 
other letter, let me have it. 

Eph. Must have, somewhar, (searches pockets). Say, 
b' gosh, the old man's goin' to take Evy an' the old 
woman to New York. 

Frank. When ? 

Eph. I don't know — he don't know — they don't 
anybody know. 

Frank. We must ascertain, Eph. If he takes Eva 
to New York I will go, too. Didn't you find out when 
they are going — didn't she say anything to you about it ? 

Eph. No- yes — I told her, she didn't know noth- 
in' about it. I got it from Felipe, the half-breed, he loafs 
around the mine a good deal, an' he'll do anything for 



20 THE TWO BONANZAS. 

me. But say — I don't think they'll go for a week or 
two, d' yeou? 

Frank. You cannot tell — they may go at once — 
you know Dundas will resort to any means to effectually 
separate us. I do not like to ask it of you, Eph, but I 
Avill stay here and guard the tunnel, if you will go back, 
to-night, and keep an eye on Dundas' movemenls for me. 

Eph. Thar's that consound letter, now. ( Gives F. 
Idler.') Yaas, I'll go ^ — 'course I will. 

Frank. Thank you, Eph, you can do much better 
than I ; my presence there would excite suspicion, besides 
it is better that Dundas and I should not meet, just at 
present. 

Eph. Well, say, you got me kind o' concerned — 
keep yer eye peeled fer news, 'cuz I'm off like a cork to 
a pop bottle. (Going.) 

Frank. Let me know as soon as you have learned 
anything definite, Eph, 

Eph. 'M b' gosh. (E-rit.) 

Frank. (Takes short time to read tetter.) Precious as 
it all is, the last line is worth all the rest : " If you 
should not hear from me for months, or even years, re- 
member I am always true." Bless her, I will remember 
it. How happy I ought to be; yet how discontented I 
am. The winds whispering through the pines make me 
drowsy. It reminds me of my old home in the Alle- 
ghanies, and seems to speak cheeringly of the new home 
for that dear girl and me, that shall be nestled in the 
cosiest spot to be found in this broad land of ours. God 
bless her and make me worthy of her. I will go to 
sleep now and try if I can dream of her. 

JuANiTA. (Without.) Oh, Johnny! 

Frank. {Starting.) It was the wind. I was almost 
asleep. I thought I heard a cry. (Lies down again.) 

Juanita. ( Without, nearer.) Oh, Johnny ! 

i'RANK. It was a cry. {Opcn.^ door.) 

Juanita. (Without.) Did you see him? Is he 
here? 

Frank. Who ? Is who here ? 

(Enter Juanita.) 

Juanita. I wish you would tell him baby is dead — 
it starved. 

Frank. My good woman, what do you mean? Can 
I help vou? 



THE TWO BONANZAS. 



JuANiTA. He went over that way, and left me and 
baby Fred at a cabin in the mountains. {LiMens.) Oh, 
Johnny ! 

Frank. Don't do that I What, in Heaven's name, 
has happened? What — 

JuANiTA. He said he woukl come back and bring 
me medicine and baby Fred some milk. But baby is 
dead. He is dead — he is dead, now ! 

Frank. (Aside.) She is demented. {Aloicd.) What — 
can I do anything for you ? 

JuANiTA. Johnny wasn't mad at me that day. He 
didn't scold me. He didn't whip Freddie, because I was 
sick and Freddie was hungry. He only went away and 
he never came back. Too late, too late ; baby died — he 
starved. 

Frank. My poor woman, you are cold and tired. 
Will you sit down, if I will build a fire? Would you 
like something to eat? 

JuANiTA. No, no, no, no, I am going to find Johnny. 
He used to kiss me, and he loved me once, when I ran 
away from home and married him. And he loved 
Freddie when Freddie got big enough to laugh. He 
will be sorry when I tell him baby Fred is dead. But 1 
buried him. I wrapped his little body in one of my 
skirts, and scraped a little grave and buried him. A 
little linnet ate some seeds and sung on baby's grave. 
I wonder God fed the linnet and let my baby starve. I 
prayed before I buried him, and my head has been frozen 
ever since. When I buried baby, 1 saw him open his 
dead eyes and he blew a cold breath on my forehead and 
it froze. Then I got lost and could not find baby's grave 
again. Johnny would help me find it, wonldn't he? 
Yes, yes, yes, wait, Avait ; we will find you, ))a})y, we will 
find you. COoing.) 

Frank. (Aside.) This is awful; I must keep her 
by some means. (Ahnd, taking her arm.) No, you must 
not go. It is too cold and dark. You are ill, now, from 
exposure. Sit down (makes her sit) and tell me your 
name, and Johnny's. Then, if you will stay here, I will 
try to find him. Tell me his name. 

JuANiTA. Johnny named me Juanita; he said I 
must not tell my other name ; but you will find him, 
won't you? My name was Ellen, once. John Jenree 
■was my husband, and Freddie was baby's name. He 
starved, but I was sick, and he made my head freeze, but 
he didn't mean to — he was dead. 



22 THE TWO BONANZAS. 



Frank. {Aside.) Let me see, I can sleep in the 
tunnel, if I can prevail upon her to stay here. I Avill, 
try strategy. {Aloud.) Jiuinita, Johnny said you mustj 
remain here until morning, and you must obey. He: 
will be very angry if you try to go away. I 

JvANiTA. Then he would hurt me with his fist*! 
again, wouldn't he? Don't let him get angry. I will! 
stay, I will stay. I will not go away. Frozen, frozen.! 
Oh, mother, your poor Ellen's head is — f-r-o-z-e-n. ' 

Frank. » You must sleep in that bunk, there. Be- 
careful with the candle. If you allow anything to get' 
afire, or try to go away, I will tell Johnny and he will' 
be very angry. 

JiTANiTA. I will be careful ; I wont go away. Then^ 
he wouldn't hurt me, would he? I wont let anything: 
burn. 

Frank. I think she will stay, but I must keep an; 
eye on her for awhile. Be careful, now, I am going.' 
(Exit.) 

JuANiTA. ( Walks aimle.'<sly about. Picks up old coat^. 
sitsby table holding coat like an ivfant -tries to feed, it.) Eat; 
it, Freddie, eat it. Can't you drink the nice milk ? Are 
you dead? Don't die, Freddie; you must not leave me; 
alone; you will make mother's head freeze again. Is. 
Freddie sleepy ? You wont die, you will go to sleep^ 
Avont you, Freddie ? ( Walks sloivly to and fro and sings.) 

Hvish, my babe, lie still and slumber, 
Holy angels guard thy bed. 

I SLOW MUSIC AND CURTAIN.] 

Scene 4. — A uood near the Eva D mine. — Enter Eph. 

Eph. I reckon this must be the place and it's about 
half-past nine o'clock, 'cordin' to the way the moon's i 
shinin' down on them mountains. I'll be teetotally dog-' 
bit by a dominick rooster if I ever worked harder, an' 
found out less, than I have since Frank sent me eout^ 
about this time last night, to kinder keep watch o' things, 
fer him. I got over to the Dundas camp about 11 o'clock | 
an' found everything dark. Thinks 1, I'll jist lay lowi 
an' be on the lookout abeout daylight. At daylight 1 1 
found out 'at Van Peltzinger and Dundas an' his whole | 
family was gone fer New York, but nobody knowed ad-' 
zackly when they canuckulated. Then 1 saw Burke i 
Nassgar and Felipe, the half-breed, makin' some mys-, 
terious maneuvers, an' the half-breed signed to me to | 
look out, but I didn't git a good chance to talk with i 
him till abeout dark, an' then I didn't find eout adzackly | 



THE TWO BONANZAS. 23 

what was in the wind. But I did find out one thing: 
Felipe, the half-breed, aint no half-breed at all. He's 
got as much good, christian, white blood in his veins as 
I have, an' he's lookin' fer somebody with a purty toler- 
able sharp piece of stick too. When I cum up to him 
this evenin' he was mutterin' to himself in a durn sight 
better English'n I'm in the habit o' handlin'. I heard 
him say, says he: "I reckon you're the man I'm after. 
I'll find out what you did with Ellen, first, and then if 
I'm right, God have mercy on your guilty soul." Made 
my ha'r shove my hat clean over onto my eyebrows — it 
did, b' gosh. Then when I comes up, he begins to talk 
half-breed agin, an' says fer me to hide hyar in the willers, 
about 10 o'clock to-night, to listen to him and Burke 
Nassgar; an' hyar I — b' gosh ! [Hides.) 

(Enter Burke Xassgar and Felipe.) 

Nassgar. Felipe, old boy, you're half Injun and 
can understand what I mean. Fm about half Injun my- 
seli in some things — I never forget an injury, nor forgive 
it. Now, I'll pay you well for what I want done, and I 
want you to keep your tongue to yourself, can you do 
that? " 

Felipe. Oh, yes, me no talk — no tell, all right. 

Nassgar. All right it is. Here, old man, take a 
drop of this, and then we'll talk business. (They drink 
fn m bottle.) Hem I hem! Now you know Dundas, the 
old boss ? 

Felipe. Dundas? Me know 'im, yes. 

Nassgar. Well, between you and me, he and his whole 
family have been soaring just a trifle too high to suit me, 
and I'm going to cut them down a notch. I'm going to 
take the Eva D. mine away from them. 

Felipe. You fight 'em ? 

Nassgar. No, that is, only with the law. Now you 
understand the aiine is in the name of the old man and 
his daughter, and they can't either of tl.em hold mining 
property in this country — do you .mbe'! 

Felipe. No, quien scibe. W^hat for ? 

Nassgar. It's because they are not citizens — they're 
Scotch-Canadians— that's what for. Now, I can't re- 
locate the mine myself, because I have charge of it as the 
agent of Dundas. ' I am going to have it jumped by Jake 
Cusick, a friend of mine, and I don't want it known that 
I have anything to do with it, do you see? 

Felipe. Yes, me see — good. 



24 THE TWO BONANZAS. 

!Nassgar. Well, now you understand why I had to 
wait until dark. Jake goes up the trail with a pack 
train, down by Beaver Forks, every morning, and back 
down again every night, isow, Felipe, I have two 
boards here, with notices on. This one is a location 
stake, that I am going to put up on the mine — that will 
hold her sixty da3's (sets it against tree It). And this one 
is a notice to Jake to come up here, right away, and I 
want you to put it up by the trail, down at Beaver Forks. 
It's only four miles and a half down there, and if you 
will do as I tell you, I will give you a ten-dollar note. Is 
that all right ? 

Felipe. Yes, all right. 

Nassgar. {Setting baord against tree L.) You bet it's 
all right. You'll never lose anything by sticking to me, 
Felipe, if you are an Injun. I'm drinking a little to- 
night, but I know what I'm about; audi know how to 
stick to my friends, too. Talking about drinking, I want 
a drink of water, now, about as much as I've been want- 
ing whiskey all day. Suppose we take a sup at the 
spring, there, just to see how it will taste. They say it's 
the best water in the mountains. Come on. (Going.) 

Felipe. All right, me drink 'em some. (E.i:it Nass- 
gar and Felipe R. ) 

{Enter Eph.) 

Eph. If I save that mine, I've got to jump it, an' 
purty allfired quick tew ; but I can't write no claim 
stake. Je-ru-sa-lem, if Frank was only hyarl Haw, 
liaw, b' gosh {changes stakes) ; now the notice for Jake 
Cusick will be put up on the mine an' the location stake 
'11 be put up down at Beaver Forks. Epliraim, shake. 
{Shakes his oirii hand.) It's too dark for him to notice the 
difference afore daylight; an' by that time, with Frank to 
write me a claim stake, I'll jist own the Eva D. myself, 
if I don't die or git lost. {Hurries off, L.) 

{lie-enter Nassgar and Felipe.) 

Nassgai£. Now, Felipe, be sure and put your stake 
in plain view, because if Jake doesn't show up about the 
mine to-morrow, people will wonder who located it for 
him. Here {taking board on left), this is yours, the other 
is mine. I expect vuu'd better set it up in the trail ; set 
it up right in the middle of the trail, and pile some stones 
about it, so that Jake can't possibly overlook it. I will 
go put up this location stake at once, and if you do your 
part right, Felipe, by all the devils in the infernal re- 
gions, 1 will show Wallace Dundas and his proud chit of 



THE TWO BONANZAS. 25 

a girl, who is wealthier, they or I. Goodnight and good 
luck. (Exit.) 

Felipe. Good night. The more I wait and investi- 
tigate the more I am convinced he is the despoiler I have 
sought so long. Time and patience. Time and patience. 
If she lives, I will find her ; and if he lives, he shall ac- 
count to nie — I swear he shall account to me. 
[CURTAIN.] 



ACT 11. 

Scene 1. — Dundas' manxbm in New York Cil;/. Parlor. 
Eva Discovered. 

Eva. Now for a quiet time with Frank. I haven't 
heard from him since we came to New York, until the 
postman brought me this letter, half an hour ago. I 
wanted it all to myself, and this is the first opportunity I 
have had to open it. I hope I will not be interrupted. 
{ Beads.) "Oro Piedra, May 1st.— My Dearest Eva.— I 
have so much to tell you tha. I fear you will never have 
j^atience to read all that I have to write. About a week 
ago, I had completed my arrangements to follow 3'ou to 
New York, when I was taken to my bunk M'ith mountain 
fever. Imagine the aggravating irksomeness of it. I 
am much better now, thanks to the care of Felipe, the 
half-breed, assisted by a poor, forsaken woman, who came 
to my cabin a week ago, lialf starved, and more than half 
dementetl, through exposure in the mountains. I am 
sure your kind heart would have bled for her if you could 
have seen her a week ago. I will tell you her sad liistory 
when I am a little stronger. With medical attention and 
nutritious food, her reason has returned, and although she 
is still very melancholy and very weak, she assists Felipe 
in waiting upon me, with all tlie care of a mother. Eph 
Converse, I presume, is in New York. He found, through 
some of his quaint strategy, that Burke Nassgar was 
l^lanning to re-locate your Eva D. mine, and came to me 
in great haste, to have me write a location stake for him, 
which he managed by some means to get placed upon the 
mine, ahead of Nassgar. The day before I was taken ill 
he completed his preliminary assessment on the Eva D., 
and the same evening r elipe, the half-breed, came to me 
with a message from Eph, saying he had started to the 
county seat, to record his location certificate, and if he 
did not return next day, I might conclude he had gone to 
New York on business. He is yet absent, so I presume 



26 THE TWO BONANZAS. 



he has called on you, in your new home, before this. 
Felipe is enthusiastic in his talk of our new discovery, 
the Eva L., and cheers me up, occasionally, by bringing 
in new specimens of the precious quartz. I think of you 
always, and am hurrying to recover that I may come and 
claim you. Write me very, very often, and remember 
always that ni}^ only hope and ambition is to live and 
work for your hajipiness. Forever and ever, your 
Frank." Frank always writes such good letters, but I 
am not going to have that woman there waiting on him, 
now, so I'm not. I think he might have kept that to 
himself. I'm in a good humor to give him a piece of my 
mind, so I am. But, (a pauge) of course, if Frank is ill, 
I — well, I will have him dismiss her as soon as he can get 
along with Felipe alone. Poor F^rank ! I wish I could be 
there. I must answer his letter at once. 

(Enter Mr. D. and Mrs. D., elegantly attired.) 

Di'NDAS. Well, Eva, daughter, I have just broken 
the news to your mother, and I may as well tell you, so 
that you can be prepared for it. jSIr. Van Peltzinger will 
call soon, to come to an understanding in regard to your 
acceptance of his hand and fortune. You must take into 
consideration his high social position, you know he is 
quite wealthy, and withal a sensible enough sort of fellow 
in his way. I know- you once had a foolish 

Eva. Papa, (crossiny and kneeling by D.) am I your 
daughter? 

DuNBAS. In the name of Heaven, what does the girl 
mean ? 

Eva. Have you a single thought or wish for my hap- 
piness between my wedding day and my funeral ? 

DiTNDAS. Eva, I warn you, I will have no insubor- 
dination or vainglorious speeches. I want you to be 
sensible. 

Eva. W^ould you have a Dundas break lier plighted 
word, to one who is dearer to her than life itself, to wed 
one who is not only an imbecile, but selfish, and brutal as 
well. Van Peltzinger knows his attentions are distasteful 
and annoying to me ; then, is it manly for him to insist 
upon this hateful alliance? Is that nut sufficient proof of 
his unworthiness? Papa, if you love me, do not barter 
me as you would one of your horses. I will remain 
single to please you ! I will w'ork, drudge ; nay, I will 
go out into the world and beg. I — you know I would 
make any reasonable sacrifice to please you — but do not, 
papa, please do not insist upon this. 



THE TWO BONANZAS. 27 

DuNDAS. {Pacing floor.) Is this the reward I am to 
get for all my sacrifices? I have worked for twenty 
years. I have traversed land and sea — Africa, Australia, 
California, Colorado, that I might accumulate a fortune 
sufficient to place you, my only child, in a position that 
M'ould satisfy the pride, even, of a Dundas. A month ago 
we owned a cabin in the mountains. To-day, whose 
house, or dress, or carriages, can put ours to shame? And 
here comes an ofler of an alliance with one of the wealth- 
iest and proudest families of the State, and you would cast 
it aside as of no consequence. I am tired of this non- 
sense. Mr. Van Peltzinger will come soon, and I shall 
expect you to give him tlie answer that a sensible girl 
should. 

Eva. Very well, (rising) I will answer him. 

Dundas. Spoken like yourself, now, daughter mine. 
It is almost time for him to come. Go and prepare your- 
self for this interview, and let us have an end to this 
belligerent suspense. 

• (Exit Eva.) 

Mrs. D. Wallace, are you not afraid this may lead to 
something terrible? 

Dundas. What the devil are you croaking about 
next. When I get one of you to talking and acting Avith 
a little reason, the other begins on me. 

Mrs. D. I am sure I did not mean to do so, Wallace, 
but Eva is so strange and quietof late, that — she frightens 
me. I am nervous, anyway, and I'm afraid she may — you 
do not know what she may do. 

Dundas. Stuff and nonsense. Any other girl would 
jump at such an ofler. She will marry Van Peltzinger, 
and get along comfortably enough, I warrant you, after 
she has had a little time to forget that Frank Leflingwell. 
I wish he had been buried before she had ever seen him. 
Everything has gone wrong since. 
{Enter servant.) 

Servant. Mr. Van Peltzinger. 

Dundas. Show him in ; then tell Eva to come down 
at once. 

Servant. Yes, sir. (Exit.) 

Mrs. D. I will send her down, Wallace. You will 
not need me. Y'ou can excuse me to Mr. Van Peltzinger. 
(Going.) 

Dundas. Just as vou like. You act more 1 ( a 



28 THE TWO BONANZAS. 

woman at a funeral than anything else, to say the best of 
you. {Exit Mrs. D.) 

{Enter Van P.) 

DuNDAS. Good afternoon, ^'■an, come in, I am glad 
you have come. 

Van. Ah, so? Had you, ah, given me up? 

DuNDAs. No, not that — you are on tim^, I think, but 
I have just liad a talk with my daughter, and I fancy she 
is about of my opinion by this time. 

Van. Ah, you are very encouraging 'm suah. 

DuNDAS. Yes, I have just given her a substantial 
lecture. Of course, you are man of the world enough to 
know that girls of her age will indulge their juvenile 
fancies, to a greater or less degree; but let them marry, 
and settle down to the realities of life, and they make the 
best wives in the world — my word for it. 
{Enter Eva.) 

Van. Ah, how are you this afternoon. Miss Eva ; or, 
if I may answ'er for you, I will say' moah chawming than 
evah. 

Eya. 1 am quite well, thank you. 

DuNDAS. Well, I have the coachman to look after, 
and you know two are company, while three are a crowd, 
so I will take the liberty of going without further excuse. 

Van. Oh, ah, if you have business, certainly. 

DUNDAS. Well, for the present, good evening. {Exit.) 

Van. Good evening, Mr. Dundas. (A pause.) Pleas- 
ant evening. Miss P^va. 

Eva. Yes, I believe the evening is pleasant. 

Van. (Hesitating.) It is, ah, not so cool here as it 
is, ah, in the mountains. To-day has been quite warm. 

Eva. Yes, I believe it has. 

Van. {Still groping.) Ah — how do you, ah, like New 
York, Miss Eva? 

Eva. I cannot say I like it. 

Van. No? Ah, you will like it bettah, no doubt, as 
you grow moah accustomed to the, ah, the change. Do 
you know. Miss Eva, you are different from all the young 
ladies of my acquaintance ? 

Eva. I had not thought of it. 

Van. No? It is true, though, I assho you. Do you 
know the moah you have shown me indifference and dis- 
couragement, the moah I am convinced you are superior 



THE TWO BONANZAS. 2» 



to all the othali women I have evah met, and the moah I 
hope some day to call you my wife? 

Eva. I hope not. 

Van. My pwecious girl, why do you so persistently 
weject me. What can there be in my person or position 
that is so wepulsive? 

Eva. Simply this : You know I do not Jove you — 
can never love you — yet you prevail upon my father to 
insist upon a marriage that, to me, would be a hateful one. 
Is not that enough ? 

Van. But time would change all that. You would 
not, you could not, wepay a life of tendahness and devo- 
tion with scorn and wepwoaches— I know you could nevah 
do that. 

Eva. No, I would never contract a marriage that 
would make such a thing possible. 

Van. I could make your life a happy one, Miss Eva. 

Eva. No, you could not. 

Van. You know, ah, I am not a pauper. 

Eva. You could not if you were a king. 

Van. I could give you society worthy a queen. 

Eva. I could not endure such society for a single 
day. 

Van. Miss Eva, I came here this evening hoping to 
avoid telling you the whole truth, but I find I must. 
Your fathah is in great peril, and I want to assist him if 
he is to be my fathah, as well as yours. 

Eva. My father in peril — of what ? 

Van. Of being arrested, and having all his pwoperty 
taken from him by attachment. You must know he ob- 
tained $500,000 from our company, for which he has 
failed to give value received. His superintendent, Mr. 
Nassgar, has represented to the company that your father, 
being an alien, could not hold mining property, and that 
the Eva D. was relocated by some other party, on the day 
after our departure for this city. Also, that there was 
collusion between your father and the party who relocated, 
whereby your fathah was to obtain the company's money, 
and have his partner rob us of the mine. If this is 
true 

Eva. Stop, sir. Do not add deliberate falsehood to 
your other infamies. I understand Mr. Burke Nassgar, 
I understand you, and now will you please try to under- 
stand me? You threaten to encompass my father's ruin 
by a net-work of lies. It was to have been expected of 



THE TWO BONANZAS. 



you, but I do not fear you. Do your worst. Listen to 
this : Before I will wed you, I will kill you ; and let 
me warn you, I am capable of it, if forced to the expedi- 
ency. Now, sir, you may go. 

Van. (tiwiiUy). Ah, certainly {Ktarting toward door), \i 
you will allow me to get my hat — or — ah — shall I send 
for it ? 

(Enter Mrs. D) 

Mrs. D. Oh, Eva, my poor daughter, how can I ever 
live through this ? Why did we ever leave our happy 
home in the mountains? Oh, Wallace, Wallace! 

Eva. Mother, what t« the matter? 

Mrs. D. Oh, those horrid police have taken him — 
your father — prisoner. 

Van. {ivith tiepidation). Ah, with your permission, I 
will go see — ah 

Mrs. D. Oh, Eva, how can I endure it — how can I ? 

Eva. So, Mr. Van Peltzinger, this is your first blow. 
Confess it ! Confess that you are capable of villainy as 
extreme as this. 

Van. Ah, Miss Eva, — ah — I hope you do not think 
I advised such a hasty proceeding as this. I — ah — ah — 

Eva. A lie has magnitude when it sticks in a throat 
as smooth as yours. (Throws him hut.) Now, will you 
get out of my sight just as quickly as you can? 

Van. Ah, if you please — ah — thank you. (Goes off 
R. hurriedly.) 

Mrs. D. Oh, Eva, Eva, Eva ! 

Eva. Have courage, mother, Eph Converse will soon 
be in the city. It was he who took the mine from us, 
and he will not fail us. 

Mrs. D. But what can he do ? What can we do — 
oh, what can we do ? 

Eva. Give to Van Peltzinger and his mining com- 
pany all they have paid us, and thank God we are as poor 
as we were when Frank Leffingwell was thought good 
enough for the daughter of Wallace Dundas. 

[CURTAIN.] 



THE TWO BONANZAS. 



ACT IL 

Scene 1. Street in Neiv York City. — Enter Eph, staring 
up and down. — Ocnt approaches. 

Eph. Heow'd dew. {Oent stares and exit.) I hope I 

may ireeze to deatli 'twixt the first o' July and the last o' 
August if there's enough perliteness in this hull taown o' 
New York City to make two bows an' a handshake eout 
of. I've spoke to abeout a dozen fellers, an' offered to 
shake hands with 'e.ii, an' I'll taper off on sweet cider if 
every one of 'em didn't look at me like a lunatic and go 
pokin' off. If the next chap 'at I meet ain't phim crazy, 
I bet he'll stop hyar an' give me some confirmation abeout 
old Dundas. If he won't, I'll be apt to ketch 'im an' 
hold 'im. 

(Enter Bootblack.) 

B. B. Black yer boots -shine 'em up I 

Eph. Heow'd dew, sonny. What you talkin' 
'abeout ? 

B. B. Shine yer boots — five cents ! 

Eph. Well, say, come over hyar an' talk to yer 
Uncle Eph. (Bootblack hesitates.) Come on. Yeou ain't 
crazy like all them grown folks, be ye? 

B. B. Does yer want a shine ? 

Eph. Yaas, course. I don't wear boots — heow much 
d'ye charge fer shoes ? 

B. B. (examining shoes critically) . Oughter charge yer 
a quarter fer shoes as big as them. 

Eph. 'M my Becky Jane! Ha, ha, ha, quarter it 
it is, sonny, peel in, naow, and hurry yerself. (Bootblack 
goes to ivork.) Say, do you know a feller around hyar 
by the name o' Dundas ? 

B. B. No. I know Dun Cow. He's a covey 'at 
shines an' sells papers on er next street. Er kids calls 
him Dun Cow 'cause he's got yaller hair an' 'e knocks 
'ees heels together when 'e walks. 

Eph. (Banning to L. E.) Say! Heow'd dew ! (Re- 
turns.) 'Nother lunatic — can't talk. 

B. B. Say, mister, can't yer gimme chaw o' terbacker, 
I aint got enough spit fer a starter ? 

Eph. Git eout ! It'll make yer sick. 

B. B. Make who sick — oh, cheese it. 

Eph. 'M b' gosh! (Gives him tobacco.) Hello! 



32 THE TWO BONANZAS. 

{Runs to L. E. — Boothlacl- pockets tobacco.) Heow'd 
dew? (Returns.) If tliis town's as hard up fer religion 
as it is fer sociability, Old Nick'll have a hog killin' 
time hyar when Gabriel comes. Now, sonny, bow yer back 
an' warm things up, for I'm in a hurry. 

B. B. Hadn't yer better pay me that quarter, now — 
you'll go off an' fergit it d'reckly. 

Eph. That's right, sonny, allers look out fer number 
one, you'll make a business man some day. (pays him.y 
Thar goes another'n; maybe he kin talk. {Runs to L. E. 
boot-black runs off R.) Say ! How'd dew ! They're all 
of a kind ; all crazy. Now, sonny ; (looking all over stage.') 
Ephraim, yer took in, by a total stranger, tew. I'll beta 
plug o' terbacker he wa'nt crazy ; but hold on, I can't bet, 
he's got my terbacker. Pie's a perty good business man 
now. 

{Enter Fish Pedler.) 
Ped. Fresh fish ! 

Eph. Say, yeou, is this the town of New York City? 
Ped. Fresh fish ! 

Eph. Look a hyar. Stickleback, do you reckon the 
hinges o' your mcuth'd rust if you'd keep it shut long- 
enough fer me to ax ye a question or tew ? 
Ped. Fresh fish ! 

Eph. Well, say, I'll give ye worse'n fresh fish ; I'll 
be apt to take ye on a short whalin' expedition if you 
don't be a little more sociable. Do yew know a feller in 
this camp by the name o' Dundas? a grumpy lookin' chap; 

with a good lookin' 

Pp:d. Ha, ha, ha, {going) . Fresh fish ! 
Eph. He was crazy, tew, b' gosh. I reckon the hull 
town's crazy; all 'ceptin that boy. The landlord was 
crazy, I know. He looked so lonesome when he told me 
to leave my pistols at the hotel, or I'd be fined, 'at I 
didn't know but what it was all i"ight, an' I jist left 'em, 
right when I'm hyar among a derned lot o' lunatics, an' 
liable to need 'em any minute, tew. I can't git no sense 
out of 'em ; I caint find Dundas, an' I've fooled around a 
huntin' fer him, an' now I cain't find the hotel. 

(Enter 3Iadelina.) 
Mad. Fresh Messina oranges, six for a dime! 
Eph. Heow'd dew, sis. 

Mad. How'd do. Buy some oranges, nice ones, six 
for a dime. 

Eph. Humph ; you aint crazy, be ye ? No, I don't 



THE TWO BONANZAS. 



want none; I would'nt know liow to cook 'em; I ain't 
bachin' now, nohow, I've put up at a tavern. vSay, sis, 
do yew live in tliis town ? 

Mad. Oh, yes sir ; two yeah. 

Eph. That so ? Do yew know a disgruntled old 
chap hyar by the name o' Dundas, 'at sold a mine, two 
or three weeks ago, to a spider-legged-Hy-up-the-creek by 
the name of Van Peltzinger? 

Mad. I 'fraid I do not understand you. 

Eph. Umphumph, we'll sharpen our drills an' put 
in a new shot. Dou you know a teller hyar by the name 
o' Dundas? 

Mad. No, Sir ; you know what street, what numbah? 

Eph. No. This is New York, ain't it? 

Mad. Yes, sir. 

Eph. Well, he lives hyar; you ain't much acquaint- 
ed, be ye? Do you know Van Peltzinger? 

Mad. No, sir. 

Eph. Why, he was raised hyar : told me so himself. 
You been livin' hyar ttvo years ? 

Mad. Yes, sir. 

Eph. An' don't know Van Peltzinger? Well, sis, 
I'm sorry, but for a real purty specimen o' ehuckleheaded- 
ness, that lays over S( me o' them graduated minin' ex- 
perts, jist a tritle. Well, whar's yer postmaster, mebbe 
he'll know 'im. 

Mad. Oh, no, he would not. 

Eph. Oh, he's a graduate too, is he? Well, I'll take 
an' tell ye: your'e the only livin' soul I've found 'ceptin 
the boy 'at got my terbacker 'at kin make any preten- 
tions to tryin' to talk, an' if ye'll listen, I'll tell ye the 
straight o' this hyar cornushament, an' then if ye kin 
help me any it'll be the salvation o' Ephraim, becuz I 
want to git through an' git out o' hyar before I git as 
crazy as the balance of ye ; I b'lieve my mind's kinder 
givin' way under the strain, already ■ I do b'gosh ! Ye 
see this Dundas I was tellin' ye about, had a half interest 
in a mine 'at he couldn't hold, 'cause he wasn't a citzen. 
Well, his gal, Evy Dundas, owned the other half, but she 
M'asn't a citizen, nuther. Jist as they was sellin' the mine 
to this Van Peltzinger, I jumps it. Well, that'll bust the 
sale. Now, Evy Dundas an' my pardner, Frank Leffing- 
well, as white a boy as ever stuck a pick in a mine, they 
want to marry one another, but the old man bein' entirely 
discompreciative of all the powerful commotions that 



34 THE TWO BONANZAS. 

superannuates their young hearts, he kicks. Now, I 
reckon ye understand. I want to find old Dundas, becuz 
I'm willin' to give him an' Van PeUzinger the mine, if 
he'll let up on Frank an' the gal, do ye keep the trail ? 

Mad. Keep what, wheech ? 

Eph. I mean do ye savvy ? 

Mad. What you say? 

Eph. What I mean is, do you tumble, do you ketch 
on, do you understand ? 

Mad. Oh, yes, much of it ; you want to find Mr. 
Dundas. 

Eph. Prezackly; now your'e right, keep agoin'. 

Mad. You must get directory. 

Eph. Git what? 

Mad. Directory ; book with names of all ze people 
in ze city, and ze street and numbah. 

Eph. But ye see Dundas ain't been hyar more'n two 
or three weeks; they wouldn't git his pedigree printed 
that quick woukl they? 

Mad. Oh, no, but Mr. Van Pelts 1 cannot say it. 

Eph. That's so, never thought o' that, you ain't as 
green as ye look, be ye? Now, where'll I find one o' them 
refractories ? 

Mad. At you hotel. 

Eph. But, Pve fooled around an' lost the darned 
thing. 

Mad. What ze name ? 

Eph. The hotel ? Met-old-polly-ann, as near as I 
could make out. 

Mad. Was it Met-ro-pol-i-tan? 

Eph. Metty-whollopin ? I dunno, mebbe 'twas the 
Metty-whollopin. 

Mad. I find it for you. 

Eph. D'ye reckon ? W^all, 'tween you an' me I kin 
wind up a trail on the plains or in tlie mountains, but if 
yeou kin find anything or anybody in this village you 
kin take the gingerbread, becuz I swow I can't. 

Mad. W^ait I sing a song an' sell some oranges over 
there ; I will be quick. I show you hotel in few minutes. 

Eph. No, hyar, wait, kin yeou sing ? Pll buy yer 
oranges ; how many yer got ? 
Mad. Two dozens. 



THE TWO BONANZAS. 35 

Eph. Well, I'll take 'em; now how much was ye to 
git for that song? 

Mad. Sometimes gentlemen gif me ten cent, some- 
time twenty-live cent. 

Eph. (Aside) Now ain't that cunnin' ? Well, 
say, if it's sunthin' good an' old-fashioned, I'll give ye 
half a dollar. Would ye as lief sing fer me? 

Mad. Oh, yes, sir. 

Eph. Well, now, peel in an' gin us sunthin solid. I 
ain't heard a woman sing in fifteen year, I reckon. Gin 
us sunthing all wool an' a yard wide. (3Iad. sings first 
verse Home, Sweet Home.) If that don't beat — say, sis, 
would ye mind me huggin' ye a little ! 'Twouldn't be 
adzackly 'cordin' to Gunter, though, would it? Say, I 
wish you'd tell me your name. 

Mad. Madelina Ferrara. 

Eph. Purty name, tew, Mas ye ever in Vermont, 
Madelina? 

Mad. No, 'm Italian, (pronounce E-tal-yon.) 

Eph. Tally one? You bet, tally two, a half dozen 
on 'em if ye like, cuz that song's purty nigh native silver 
with a streak or two o' free gold. It makes me feel 
either almighty good, or homesick as creation, I dont 
know which. Danged if I can't hear the keow bells, an' 
see the woods pasture, an' smell the buck-wheat, an' see 
the fuzzy-backed bumble bees a wollojiin' through the 
clover blossoms all the wny through that song. Say, 
that was a half dollars worth, wan't it? Well, hyar's a 
dollar, gimme filty cents worth more. 

Mad. Oh, yes, I got some more songs. 

Eph. No, b'gosh, I won't have 'em. I want fifty 
cents worth more o' that one. Sing it over agin. 

Mad. There is one more verse ; I sing you last verse. 

Eph. Yaas, dew. [Meid. sings lust verse.) Say, Mad- 
elina, you're a good girl, ain't ye? 

Mad. Yes, my good mother in heaven, she knows. 

Eph. Shake, sis ; that's the truth, I'll bet, shake. 
Never go back on a good mother, wherever she is. A 
good mother's jist as good as a angel — a good mother is a 
angel, and I look up to a man or woman, either, 'at looks 
up to a good mother The human bein' 'at don't keep 
his heart throwin' kisses at his mother, may have a soul, 
but he don't know it, an' what good does it do 'm? If 
you'll never go back on ver mother, sis, God'll never go 
back on you. 



36 THE TWO BONANZAS. 



Mad. It is true — my mother many times tell me so 
— I know it is true. 

Eph. Say, whar do you live, Madelina? 

Mad. At Pedro Bardito's, way down Forty-second 
street. 

Eph. Is he yer uncle, or yer grandfather? 

Mad. Oh, no, Pedro and his wife my boss. 

Eph. Your boss! What does he boss you about? 

Mad. They bring me to America and make me sing^ 
and sell oranges five yeahs for pay. 

Eph. They dew ! Well, that's too tarnation long. 
Are they good to ye, Madelina? 

Mad. No — Yes — sometimes; when I make much 
money. 

Eph. Well, say they don't — don't they give ye none 
o' what ye earn? 

Mad. No, I give it Pedro when he is sober ; if he is 
drunk I give it his wife Maria. Sometimes Pedro take it 
from me when he is drunk, and Maria get verV mad at 
me. 

Eph. Well, b'gosh, hyar's another sunthin' to 'tend 
tew. If I understand the prudimentary intrinsicalities 
o' this gov'ment, it's down on peonage and every other 
kind o' slavery. I thought they'd put it in the Constitu- 
tion, but it 'pears not. Well I got it in my constitution 
to give Pedro Hardeater sunthin' more noblifyin' to do 
than to be boss'n gals like this'n. If I had license to use 
a spruce club inside o' this corporation about a week, I'd 
have a few Christians hyar, or a hull muss 'o crip})les — 
one o' the tew — I would, b'gosh ! A club's the most civil- 
izin' thing on top o' ground fer a mule or a man 'at's 
natrally inclined to be mean. If I kin find Dundas, I'll 
git Miss Evy to take this gal ofT'n these streets if she'll 
go, beeuz good gals wasn't made to sell songs an' oranges, 
an' Miss Evy knows it jist as well as I do. How fur is it 
from hyar to that hotel, Madelina ? 

Mad. 'Me see, five — six — seven blocks. 
Eph. Well, hyars a couple o' dollars, that's all I 
kin spare ye now ; but if I don't lose ye I'll give ye as 
much silver as ye kin kerry, one o' these days — if I 
don't I hope I may freeze to death al)ove timberline on a 
empty stomach — I do, b'gosh ! Neow, if ye'll show me 
whar that hotel o' mine has managed to get tew, we'll 
eat what they've got about the house, an' then I'll strike 
eout agin an' see if I kin lift that trail. 



THE TWO BONANZAS. 



Mad. We go down this street two blocks, then — 
(enter Pedro) — oh, there is Pedro, my boss. 

Ped. {Approaching 3f ad.) Hi, tiiere, Madelina ! 

Eph. Hyar, yon let the gal alone. 

Ped. Who was you ? 

Mad. Please do not make liim mad, mistali, he 
whip me when I go home. 

Eph. I'll bet you likker fer us three 'at he don't. 
{To Pedro.) Me? I'm a gentleman when I'm to home; 
an' yew, you're a loafer, I b'lieve, an' if I ketch yew un- 
dertakin' to boss Madelina any more, I'll go to work an' 
loosen up yer stulls an' cave ye in — I'm out of a job jist 
now, anyhow. 

Ped. Whaz you mean ? She one off my gals — she 
work for me. 

Eph. Well, she's workin' fer me jist now — come 
on, Madelina, and show me that hotel. 

Mad. (To Pedro.) Ze gentleman gif me dollah to 
show him wiiere is ze Metropolitan, Pedro, I come back 
in few minute. 

Eph. Come on, don't I teh ye — me a tryin' to hurry 
up to keep from gittin' mad — I'll choke him in a minute 

— I will, b' gosh. [Eph. and Mad. goincj.) 

Ped. Hi there, Madelina, gif me that money you 
-got. 

Mad. I better save it and give it ]\Iaria, Pedro, you 
drunk now. 

Ped. No, gif me, I say {fakes her by ear). Yesa 
Ch-r-rist, you talk with me? 

Eph. An' Gineral Jackson, you talk with me ? 
(Takes Ped. by ear ; throirs him off.) 

Ped. {Advancing tlireateningJy.) Tek caire — dem 
you, tek caire ! 

Eph. {Throws him violently.) Sow you lay still; 
you'll git me confused. 

Mad. Don't, mistah ; don't, Pedro, please don't I 

Ped. {Springs up with knife.) Diavolo I 

Mad. Don't! don't! Look out, mistah — liis knife 

— look out! 

Eph. You drop that (catches Ped. by ivri,it) ! Oh, 
you're achin' fer a chokin' an' I'm achin' to give it to ye. 
Drop that ! Now settle down easy an' it wont hurt ye a 
mite. {Chokes him down.) 



38 THE TWO BONANZAS. 

Mad. Don't kill him — don't hurt him — please 
don't. 

Eph. Hurt him? It'll do 'im good. If I lived 
around close to whar he does I'd have 'im used to it — 
It'd be tlie makin' of im. You take care of this knife 
and send it back to 'im. Now less git to that hotel. I'm 
so hungry I could purty nigh eat 'im. (£p/t. and 3Ia(L 
going.) 

Ped. (Rising.) You rob me. I have you put in 
jail. Shame, Madelina, go oft with strange man ! Oh, 
I tell Maria. Police ! police ! 

ErH. I see I spared the rod and spil't the child. 
\"ou don't show no judgment (striking him) nor sense, 
nor reason. I can't make ye honest nor respectable, but 
I kin learn ye good manners. 

Ped. (Running about stage.) Police ! murder ! fire ! 
Dem you, po-1-i-c-e! 

(Enter Policeman.) 

Pol. Who called police? What's the matter here! 

Eph. Nothin'. Say, do yeou know a feller in this 
town by the name o' Dundas, that — 

Ped. (To Pol.) lie rob me — he fight me with 
knife. 

Eph. Biggest liar for his size ever I saw. (Striking- 
Fed.) I didn't only git about half through with you. 

Ped. Police ; police ; policeyman ! 

Pol. ( Taking Eph's arm.) Hold on, here. 

Eph. (Breaking away and striking Ped.) Leggo ! 

Pol. (Catching Eph. and Ped.) 1 arrest you both 
for disorderly conduct and we will see what other charges- 
there may be. 

Eph. I reckon thar's no use. He was disorderly, but 
he'll behave now, don't ye reckon ? 

Mad. Mistah policeman, Pedro there was pull my 
ear, an' ze gentleman only try to make him quit and let 
me go. That is true. 

Eph. Prozackly, that's how I had to take this prod 
from him. {Gire Pol. knife.) 

Pol. Well, I can't take any explanation here. You 
can explain to the magistrate. If you are innocent, you 
need not be afraid to go before the recorder. 

Eph. Afeard, b'gosh, I ain't afeanl to go before the 
recorder, nor the recordin' angel, neither. I ketclies him 
puUin' the gal's ear, so I pulls his'n ; an' he pulls hig 



THE TWO BONANZAS. 



knife, an' I chokes him, an' he hollers. Now if it's a 
fair question, what'd you a' done, if you'd a' been hyar ? 

Pol. Arrested him, of course. 

Eph. Wouldn't ye a' thumped him none ? 

Pol. Not unless he resisted. 

Eph. That's adzackly what he did do. I put it to 
him just as n.ild as I could till he persisted, an' then I 
made him hump till you come. Well, less hurry along, 
I'm about starved. I'll take that chap by the nap an' 
shove him ahead if you say so. 

Pol. No, I'll take him. 

Eph. Madelina, I must see you d'reckly, an' if I can't 
find a tavern 'at covers a whole block, how am I to find a 
little woman like you? 

Pol. {To Mad.) You are a witness. You better 
come along. 

Mad. Yes, it is not far, I will go to. 

Pol. W^ell, come on. {All going.) 

Eph. Well, say, is that recorder purt_y well acquainted 
around hyar. Mebbe he'll know Dundas or Van Pelt- 
zinger. Anyhow I'm going to ax him, etc. {E.vit all.) 

[CURTAIN.] 

Scene 3. Police Court N. Y. City. Magistrate, Van 
Peltzinger, Dundas, officer and spectators discovered. 

Mag. At what time do you think you will be 
ready for a hearing, Mr. Dundas, and, meantime can 
you give bail ? 

Dundas. I will be ready for a hearing as soon as 
I can procure witnesses from Colorado. Or if, as 
your honor intimates, I may have to be tried in 
Colorado, lam ready to go now. I presume I am an 
alien, and could not have held the property, that 
was an oversight of mine, which I admit. As to the 
charge of collusion with any other party to defraud 
this company, that is wholly false. If the company 
has really lost the property through my negligence, 
it is welcome to all that I have received from it, and 
I think with that understanding, Mr. Van Peltzinger, 
here, although he is one of the complainants, would 
not hesitate to go upon my bond until the truth can 
be ascertained. 

Van. Well, I, ah, Mr. Dundas, not until I know, 
ah. 



40 THE TWO BONANZAS. 

DuNDAS. No more, sir. You would say not until 
you know whether my daughter will marry you, or 
not — never, sir ! 

Mag. Wait, wait, Mr. Dundas. I feel it my duty 
to remind you that unseemly conduct in court is not 
to be tolerated. 

Dundas. Pardon me, your honor, I shall try to 
observe decent decorum, but this romplaiant has de- 
ceived me. I believe this to be his individual jjerse- 
cution to attain a certain end. He re^jresented to 
me that this step had been taken without his 
knowledge or consent; upon coming here I find he 
is the original complainant. Now, sir — 

Van. If the gentlemen will alio w me, I said I ad- 
vised the papers should not be served yet, not that I 
was not complainant. 

Dundas. That explanation may satisfy you, sir, 
but it does not satisfy me, please to remember that. 

Mag. Order, gentlemen. In whatever you have 
to say, address your remarks to the court. 

(Enter Eph. vjWi Mad. and Policeman with Pedro.) 

Eph. (To Dundas.) Heow'd. (Policeman taps 
him on shoulder.) Yaas, jist as you say. That's the 
feller I been lookin' fer, an I was jist goin' to shake. 

Mac4. Order, order! 

Eph. Jist as you say, 'squire. I promised the 
Sherift' hyar, 'at I'd keep quiet when we come into 
court, an' I'll do it if it gives me lock-jaw. 

Mag. Mr. Officer, will you see that there is order 
in court. 

Pol. Take off your hats. 

Eph. (Takes off hat.) Jist as you say, 'squire, I 
never bucked agin no law in my life, not when I 
knowed it. 

Mag. (Indignantly.) Order in court ; sit down. 

Pol. Sit down. 

Eph. Yaas, yaas; sit down (sits.) But, 'squire, if 
it ain't agin the rules, I'd like to — 

Mag. If you want to address the court you may 
stand up, sir. 

Eph. Yaas, stand up, yas, jist as you say, 'squire. 
As I was sayin,' 'squire, would ye mind me shakin' 
hands with Mr. Dundas, afore he goes. I've follered 
'im clear from Colorado ; the Sheriff '11 tell ve, I been 



THE TWO BONANZAS. 41 

dry siuic'in' the hull town an' never could find 'im 
till now. 

Mag. Not now, sir; let us have order. Be seated. 

Eph. Jist as you say, {sits.) 

DuNDAS. Your honor, this is the Mr. Converse, 
who is alleged to have relocated the Eva D. mine, 
and whom I am accused of helping to defraud this 
company. He says he has been searching for me^ 
and ma\ have something of importance to commu- 
nicate. 

MACi. He may speak with you in presence of the 
court or the officer in charge, not otherwise. 

DuNDAS. Your honor, I am willing it shall be in 
presence of the entire city. 

Eph. Me, too, me, too. 

IMac;. Order ; we must have order Mr. Van 
Peltzinger, do you know this man ? 

Vax. Only a slight acquaintance, your honah. 

Mag. Is this the Mr. Converse you claim assisted 
Mr. Dundas in this transaction ? 

Van. Oh, yes, sir ; undoutedly. 

Eph. What does he say about me, 'squire ? 

Mag. Silence, sir. I believe you mean well 
enough, but that belief will not save you a heavy 
penalty if .you speak again to the interruption of the 
court. 

Eph. Jist as you say, 'squire. 

MAfi. Mr. Van Peltzinger, I find your informa- 
tion extends only to Mr. IHindas, and unless there is 
such information filed as will include Mr. Converse, 
also, esjiecially since he is now present, I shall dis- 
charge Mr. Dundas on my own motion. 

Van. Ah, yes, I — ah, if your honah please, we 
will — I — ah — will decide presently. 

Macj. Now, Mr. Converse, if you have anything 
to say — 

Eph. Thank ye, 'squire; ilo Dundas.) Heow'd' 
dew, Gov'nor, by gum, I ain't — — 

Mag. Hold, wait, not that 

Eph. Yaas, yaas, {sits again.) Jist as you say. 

Mag. {To Eph.) Have you anj' statement to 
make concerning this case? 

Eph. 'M — no, sir, only I didn't give him any more 
'n he deserved. 



42 THE TWO BONANZAS. 

Mag. Who ? Who are you talking about? 

Eph. {Pointinfi to Fed.) Him. 

Mag. Well, sir, he is not on trial. 

Eph. Ain't we both on trial ? 

Mag. Whom ? 

Eph. Him an' me both ? 

Mag. No, sir, there is really no person on trial ; 
but if you have anything you want to say to Mr. 
Dundas in presence of the court or officer in charge 
concerning 

Pol. Please yer honor I brought him for disor- 
derly conduct, an' this Italian for drunk and concealed 
weapons, too — that's what he means. 

]\Iag. I see — hem — we were working at cross 
puri30ses. Well, hem, are your witnesses ready ?^ 

Pol. Yes, sir. 

Mag. Then, Mr. Dundas, we will go on with 
these other cases, meanwhile you can counsel an at- 
torney. I am inclined to think nothing can be done 
in your case for several days, at the shortest. We 
may have to arrest this Mr. Converse ; may have to 
try you here, or send you to Colorado, or admit you 
to bail. Get your attorney and we will see. (to Pol.) 
Who are your witnesses in this case. 

Pol. Myself and this young girl, sir. 

Mag. {To Eph.) What is your name ? 

Eph. Ephraim Converse. But fer short they 
call me Old Eph, on account of my plain clothes and 
hump shoulders, I reckon. 

Mag. How old are you ? 

Eph. Thirty two in the spring. 

Mag. What's your nationality ? 

Eph. Minin' mostly— fight Injuns when I haf to. 

Mag. No, I mean where was you born ? 

Eph. Vai^mont, but I run away to the mountains 
when I was fifteen. 

Mag. {To Fed.) What's your name ? 

Ped. Pedro Bardito. 

Mag. How old ? 

Ped. Forty-five. 

Mag. Italian ? 

Ped. Yes, sir. 



THE TWO BONANZAS. 



Mag. {To Mad.) Be sworn. Hold up your band. 
You do solemnly swear that the testimony you shall 
give in the matter of inquiry before this court shall 
be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the 
truth, so help you God? 

Mad. Yes, sir. 

Ma(4. Your name ? 

Mad. Madelina Ferrara. 

Mag. Where do you live? 

Mad. 427 Forty-second street. 

Mag. Did you see any disturbance in which 
these men were implicated? 

Mad. Yes, sir; Pedro there is my boss, him and 
his wife, Maria. This gentleman gif me dollah to 
show him where is ze Metroi>olitan. Pedro want to 
take ze money from me. I tell him I aif it to Maria 
'caus he was drunk, and I know Maria get mad with 
me. Then Pedro he catch me to pull my ear, and ze 
gentleman catch him, and Pedro get his knife, and 
ze gentleman take it away from him and fight him. 

Mag. Is that all ? 

Mad. Yes, sir. 

Ma(;. That will do. What do you know about 
this, Mr. Officer ? 

Pol. I was half a block away, fornist the Market 
House, when I see this Italian make a dive for the 
girl, and this man made a dive for him and slung 
him round. Then I see the Italian pull this knife, 
and this man dives for him again, and chokes him 
and takes the knife from him and gives it to the girl. 
Then the Italian follows up an' says something and 
this man cuffs him a couple o' times and I arrests 
the two o' them. 

Mag. [To Fed.) Have you any witnesses? 

Ped. No, only that I will swear that 

Mac;. Never mind. I know you, I think. You 
have been here before. I give you sixty days; twenty 
for drunkenness, twenty for disorderly conduct, and 
twenty for carrying concealed weapons, 

Ped. (Rising.) But I tell you 

Mag. Sit down, sit down, or I will make it 
ninety. {To Eph.) How long have you been in the 
city ? 

Eph. Ever since this mornin'. 



44 THE TWO BONANZAS. 



Mag. {To Pol.) Any charge of drunkenness 
against this man ? 

Pol. Oh, no, sir ; I thought so at first, but I'll 
say, on oath, he hadn't a drop. 

Mag. Did he have any weapons. 

Pol. No, sir. 

Eph. They're right down hyar at the tavern. I 
don't know whar it is, but Madelina, thar, says she 
knows. We'll go fetch 'em. 

M.\G. Never mind, sir, you are discharged. But 
don't be caught getting drunk 

Eph. Not much, Mary Ann. 

Mag. Listen, sir — nor getting into disturbance — 

Eph. No, sir, not if I kin help it. 

Mag. Nor carrying concealed weapons — 

Eph. Jist as you say, 'Squire. 

Mag. If you do you will be fined, or imprisoned, 
or both. 

Eph. Jist as you say. 

Mag. Now, sir, Court will take a recess of ten 
minutes, and, during that time, if you wish to talk 
with Mr. Dundas in presence of the officers, you can 
do so. Court will take a recess often minutes. 

Eph. All right, 'squire. (To Dundas.) Heow'd 
dew, gov'nor. Say, that tavern keeper wasn't crazy, 
by gum ; if he hadn't told me to leave them pistols 
wouldn't I 'a been double-cinched an' buck-reined? 
Ha, ha, ha, ha, but — say — 

Dundas. Eph, old boy, how are you? What 
are you doing here ? 

Eph. Huntin' fer you, an' if I'm gittin' the drift 
o' your trouble with Van Peltzinger, I reckon I'm 
jist in time. Say, wouldn't the tew barrels of a shot- 
gun make liim a purty pair o' Sunday pants, if they 
was only broadcloth instead o' iron ? 

Dundas. Don't know but they would, Eph ; but 
tell me, what about the Eva D.? 

Eph. She's mine — I jumped her. 

Dundas. Eph, you've ruined me. They think 
you and I laid a plot to swindle them. 

Eph. Wish I'd 'a been hyar, I'd 'a told 'em better. 
I'd 'a give 'em a fa'r squar' exaggeration o' the whole 
cornushament. Ye see I heard Burke Nassgar tell 



THE TWO BONANZAS. 45 

Felipe, the half-breed, that you an' Miss Evy was both 
aliases, an' couldn't hold the mine, and that he was 
going to jump it, so I got Frank to write me a location 
stake and I jist jumps it myself. { Van. F. draws near 
and listens.) An' say — I've followed you all the way 
hyar to take an' tell ye : You give Frank tlie gal an' 
I'll give you an' the company the mine — b' gosh, 
what do you say? 

DuNDAS. {Seizing Epli's hand.) God bless you, 
Eph, I thank you — a thousand times, I thank you. 

Van p. ( Whispers to magistrate and exit.) 

Eph. Give five hundred of 'em to Frank, I 
couldn't 'a done nothin' without him. 

DuNDAS. I do, and I would give the five hundred 
in gold dollars just to shake his honest hand to- 
night. 

Epi[. Me, too. But say, heh, gov'nor, I'll take 
an' tell ye — that little girl over there — what do you 
think of 'er? 

DuNDAS. I hadn't noticed her. Why, I think 
she has a good look. 

Eph. Good? If you'd 'a talked with 'er like I 
have — jist as good as four aces on a pair of navies — 
an' purty? She purtier'n the mornin' sunshine 
on Trout Creek Falls. Now, you'll be going back to 
Colorado, an' I believe she'd like to live with Miss 
Evy and Miss Dundas. I'm afeard she's havin' a 
hard time roughin' it hyar among these lunatics 'at 
keeps so busy hollerin they can't stop to say heow'd 
dew to their neighbors ; and she'd ort to be took out 
to the mountains, whar people's civilized, she'd ort, 
b' gosh. 

Dundas. I am of your opinion, Eph, and if she 
will come she is welcome. I am sure mother and 
Eva will like a companion of your selection. 

Eph. Me, too. Gov'nor, I didn't used to like ye, 
but I like ye now. Say, Madelina. 

Mad. AVhat, sir? 

Eph. This is Mr. Dundas, he's from the same 
place I am; gov'nor, it's Madelina Ferrara, {They 
boio.) Now, I'll take an' tell ye, Madelina, he's got 
one daughter about your age, but he wants another'n. 
Wouldn't ye druther be a daughter to him and his 
nice old woman, an' have Miss Evy fer yer sister, 
than to have Pedro fer yer boss. 

Mad. I — think so — oh — yes, sir. 



46 THE TWO BONANZAS. 

Eph. Me, too ; me, too. He's grouty sometimes 
but he's got a good heart — he'll be good to ye. 

DcNDAS. Mj' girl, if you will come you shall share 
love and protection with my own daughter as long as 
you show yourself worthy of it. 

Mad. (Half tearfully.) Thank you. 

Pol. Order, order, get your seats — come to order. 

Mag. Mr. Dundas, ]Mr. Van Peltzinger informed 
me a moment ago that he had overheard a part of 
your conversation with Mr. Converse, and was satis- 
fied the information upon which he had you appre- 
hended was false, that his company will lose nothing, 
and at his motion the case is aismissed at the cost of 
the company. You are discharged. 

(Burst of music, Eph and Dundas shake hands, etc.) 
[CURTAIN.] 



ACT III. 

Scene 1. — ^l wood. — Enter Jake Cusick and Burke Nass- 
(jar. 

Jake. I'm willin' to do as you say, an' I aint 
pickin' no quarrel ; but if you and Felipe hadn't been 
so drunk an' got them stakes mixed that night, we'd 
'a been millionaires now, or my name aint Jake 
Cusick. 

Burke. And I tell you, as sure as my name is 
Burke Nassgar, I wasn't drunk — now let that end it. 
I have no doubt as to how it happened. Eph. Con- 
verse staked the claim ahead of us and that explains 
everything. He has played eavesdropper, and while 
Felipe and I were drinking at the spring he has ex- 
changed the stakes. Then he has hurried away to 
Frank Letiingwell and got a stake prepared with 
which he relocated the mine. It's all plain enough 
to me. 

Jake. Well, what'll we do ? 

Burke. There's only one thing can be done. 
We will put Frank Letiingwell out of the way now, 
and send Ei>h. Converse over the range as soon as he 
comes back. We have lost the Eva D., but we can 
get the Eva L., and it's worth two of the other. Now, 
we've got to make sure work. I want the Eva L. 
mine, but I want Frank Lefhngwell out of the way 
for another reason. 



THE TWO BONANZAS. 47 

Jake. I understand, I reckon; but how's it to be, 
knives or bullets? 

Burke. Knives. They don't make any noise, 
besides cartridges can be counted and bullet holes 
can be measured. Knives it must be, and to-night. 
What do you say ? 

Jake. That suits me; but wliat's your plan, 
how'U we work it ? 

Burke. Easy enough. "We will leave moccasin 
tracks aboTit the place, drag the corpse out and scalp 
it, burn the cabin, and it was Indians. Isn't that 
plain enough ? 

Jake. That sounds well enough. But — is Lef- 
fingwell alone? 

Burke. So far as I know — oh, of course he is. 
The halfbreed was there a good deal while Leffing- 
well was sick — but he is better now — and I don't 
think Felipe ever slept there. 

Jake. We must be careful, Lefflngwell is a tiger. 

Burke. But he has been sick for three weeks, 
besides we can both strike at once to make sure 
work. 

Jake. An' if we git the property, I'm to stand in 
even. 

Burke. Why, of course. It's ten now, we can 
get through by half-past eleven. Let's move. 

Jake. I'm ready ; but say, who crawls in first? 

Burke. You. 

Jake. No, you. 

Burke. We'll toss a dollar. 

Jake. All right ; heads or tails {throws). 

Burke. Heads. 

Jake. {Strikes match and looks.) Heads it is. I 
go first. Come on. 

{Both c.vif talking in low tones.) 



48 THE TWO BONANZAS. 

Scene 2. — Interior of Frank's cabin. — Frank and Felipe' 
lying on bunk.- — A face (ipiiears at tvindow, hack. — 
Slight noise at window. — Felipe sits up and listens, i 
— Goes to windoic, runs back, buckles on knife and 
pistol, picks up club and returns to window. — Jake 
Cusick removes sash and crawls irj, with knife in 
teeth. — Felipe knocks him senseless. — Burke Nass- ' 
gar follows Jake and is knocked senseless. — Felipe, 
listens for others, then ties the tivo hand and foot, 
strikes a light and examines prisoners. 

Felipe. Burke Nassgar and Jake Cusick — I 
thought so. Not hurt much, but I Avill inform Frank. 
{Goes to Frank.] Franka, Franka! 

Frank. Humpli. 

Felipe. Two felly crawl in wind}'— mebbe so me 
kill 'em. 

Frank. (Startled.) What! 

Felipe. Burke Nassgar 'n Jake Cusick crawl in 
windy — me hit 'em — see ? 

Frank. In the name of heaven what were they 
doing ? 

Felipe. Dunno. 'M got knife in mouth, mebbe 
so 'm kill you. 

Frank. What did you strike them with? Why | 
didn't you awaken me ? Have you killed them ? 

Felipe. No, me no wakey j^ou — no make noise — 
me hit 'em, me tie 'em. 

Frank. Did you strike them hard? Are they 
dead ? 

Felipe. Quien sabe. No speck 'm dead. | 

Frank. Get some water, and be quick, Felipe. 
They have come here to commit a nuirder, but if we 
let them die, without trying to save them, that would 
itself be murder. Get a couple of towels. {Frank 
bathes Jake's face, Felipe bathes Burke's.) 

Jake. (Recovering.') What's the matter, Burke? I 
Frank. Never mind, Jake, lie still, j'ou are hurt? 
Jake.' {Groans and looks about.) Did you get uSy 
Leffingwell ? 

Frank. I didn't— Felipe did — look at your hands 
and feet. 



THE TWO BONANZAS. 49 

Jake. Oh, God ha' mercy, we are gone. What 
you goin' to do with us ? 

Frank, (-rive you to the Vigilantes. What were 
you after ? 

Jake. Say, please, Mr. Leffingwell, don't give me 
to the Vigilantes. It was Burke got me to come. I'll 
tell ye everything, if ye won't give me to the Vigi- 
lantes. We was going to kill you — Burke was — I 
wasn't. He wanted to kill you to git Eva Dundas 
and the Eva L. mine. We didn't know Felipe was 
here — Ave thought you was alone. 

Burke. {Recovering.) Jake, where are you? Come 
here. I'm hurt. I must have fallen. 

Jake. That's what ye did, an' yer tied too. The 
jig's up. I wish I'd never seen ye. 

Burke. {Loohing about.) Frank Leffingwell and 
Felipe the half-breed (groans), as sure as my name is 
Burke Nassgar. '" 

Felipe. You mean as sure as your name is John 
J en re e. 

BuKKE. You lie, sir. 

Felipe. Have a care, sir, or I'll strike you, 
wounded and bound as you are. 

[Enter Juanlta.) 

JuANiTA. Where is John Jenree? 

Felipe. There he is cousin Ellen. [Throwing off 
disguise.) I am your cousin, Clayton McClelland. 
Your husband, John Jenree, I have tied, there, be- 
cause he entered this room to murder your friend 
and benefactor, Frank Leffingwell. 

g^° Henceforth Felipe is ('lai/ton McClelland and 
Juanita is Ellen Jenree. 

Ellen. My cousin, Clayton McClelland — Clayton 
— ( They en^brace, Clayton supports her,) and — oh, God — 
Johnny, is this true? But I know it is. I know you 
left me and our baby in the mountains to starve, and 
yet my heart would strive to disbelieve. It would 
say he is wild and reckless, but not— not capable of 
that. Oh, Johnny, you are a murderer, a double- 
murderer. You left us alone at a cabin in the moun- 
tains. I lived, but baby is dead. You starved it. 
You would have starved me. You would have mur- 
dered one who saved my life. Oh, you basilisk, you 
snake, you scorpion. Beware of him — beware— scor- 
pions are dangerous reptiles— he is a scorpion — take 



50 THE TWO BONANZAS. 

him away — take him away. (Faints, Clayton supports 

her.) 

Clayton. Guard him well, Frank, until I return. 
{Bears Ellen off L.) 

Jake. If you'll let me off, INIr. Leffingwell, I'll 
work for you as long as I live. 

Burke. Never mind, Jakey, my boy, you'll be let 
off. The vigilantes will let you off at the end of a 
limb. 

Jake. Don't talk that way, Burke — have some 
feelings. 

Burke. {Bitterly.) Ha, ha, ha! 

Frank. Is your name John Jenree, and is slie 
your wife ? 

Burke. Ask Clayton McClelland, your half-breea, 
he appears to know all about it 

{Enter Clayton.) 

Clayton. He does, and he will tell you all about 
it. Mr. Leffingwell, I have deceived vou, I am a 
wliite man and a Virginian. When I was an orphan 
of sixteen my cousin Ellen was an orphan of eight — 
we both lived with my uncle, who was very wealthy, 
but very eccentric, as well. W,^ quarreled, and my 
cousin Ellen took a position against me. I went into 
the Confederate army, then to Europe and Africa. 
At Gibralter I saw, in a New York papt.r, a personal 
advertisement, signed by my uncle, begging me to 
return to him. I came back, but was too late. My 
uncle had died, and my cousin had decamped with 
this John Jenree, whom I had never seen, but who 
was rejjuted to be a handsome adventurer, a reckless 
gambler, and withal a man not likely to take proper 
care of a wife. He married her, believing her to be 
the heiress to one-half my uncle's estate, when, in 
fact, she was heiress to one-half of it only on condi- 
tion that she married me. Jenree never dared ask 
her for the truth, but after they were married and he 
found she was not an heiress, he abandoned her and 
her child, sick and starving. He has wronged her; 
he has dishonored my family ; he has sought to mur- 
der you. I have tracked him two thousand miles, 
and I have found him. There can be no doubt of his 
guilt. Law is scarce here, and I propose one of two 
sentences for him .• You and I will hang him, or — I 
will kill him. 

Frank. Either would be both cowardly and 



THE TWO BONANZAS. 



wrong, Mr. McClelland. We have a People's Court ; 
let him be tried by that, and you may depend upon 
the justice of its sentence. 

Clayton. Vntie him — give him my pistol — I will 
take yours; then ta^te that other cutthroat out and 
lock the door! There is nothing cowardly in that! 

Frank. Mr. McClelland, you are excited. Would 
you throw your life into the balance against that of a 
vagabond and an outlaw ? I will allow nothing of 
the kind; and on the other hand, to kill a prisoner, 
wounded and bound, without a trial, would be denom- 
inated murder, even by a People's Court. Wait until 
to-morrow, you will be cool then, and I am sure you 
will agree with me. Will you wait? 

Clayton. Yes, sir ; if you wish it they shall have 
a trial ; but John Jenree is my prisoner, and he shall 
not escape punishment, provided I live to see justice 
done. You are not a well man, Mr. Leffingwell, by a 
week or two. Go to your rest. I will guard this 
precious pair. If they behave they will live to eat 
breakfast and stand trial — otherwise they will need 
no ti'ial. 

Frank. On the strength of that promise I will 
take my blankets and go to the tunntl where it will 
be quiet, for, to confess the truth, I am not as strong 
as I would like to be. I need caution you only to be 
careful as to your own safety, and to look after ttie 
comfort of your cousin in the next room. Good night. 
(Exit.) 

Clayton. Goodnight. {To Burke and Jake.) Now, 
you fellows, I must trouble you to take up new posi- 
tions. {Ties Burke's feet to one leg of bank, Jake's to the 
other. Ties their hands above their lieads as they lie on the 
floor, so that if they move their hands they will ptill strings 
attached to triggers of two guns, so placed on ehnirs as to 
shoot them. Sloiv music.) Now, if you remain quiet, 
you will rest as comfortably as you deserve ; if you 
make a move to break away, then you and your 
Maker for it. I have got to take care of that poor 
girl whom your villainies have made ill. You can 
talk, but don't get to scuffling. {Exit L.) 

Burke. Jake, it's all up with us. I'm going to 
light out of this. 

Jake. Light out ? If you ain't a bigger fool'n I 
am, you'll lay still. Don't you i. now them guns is 
loaded, and if you move you'll be sliot through and 
through ? 



52 THE TWO BONANZAS. 



Burke. That's it exactly. I am not going to be 
hanged by anj" vigilantes. I'm not going to have 
Clayton McClelland crowing over my conviction, 
I've played my hand high, and lost. What's the use 
of buckin' at a fate that's eternally against you? 
There's only one way out of it. The last ill turn I 
can do them is to pull on this string and rob them of 
a prisoner. Now, don't jerk when this gun goes off. 

Jake. Don't do it, Burke, for God's sake, don't. 
I can't lay still enough. I don't want to lay hyar, 
'longside a dead man. Don't, don't — I wouldn't do 
you that a- way ! 

Burke. Oh, stop your clack. You can hang if 
you want to — it's only a question of taste. You tell 
"Clayton and Ellen if they ever give me away to the 
folks in old Vii-ginia, I'll haunt them to the lagt 
hour of their existence, if there's such a thing as a 
ghost getting out of a grave. 

Jake. Zhool Burke, don't talk that way. You've 
got hot chills goin' all up and down my back. 

Burke. Bah ! You're a baby. "Will you tell 
them ? 

Jake. Yes — but — say, Burlie, damn it, don't. 

Burke. Don't forget, noAV, and, good-bye. {Gun 
snaps.) 

Jake. Burke ! AVhat — 

Burke. Sh-h-h ! Bad cartridge — lay low — if he 
will only stay away now, just thirty seconds. Gets 
two knives dropped by liim and Jake. Takes knife in teeth 
and cats cord on hands ; cuts feet loose; cuts cord attached 
to Juke's gun, then cords on Jake's feet. Both rise.) 
{Enter Clayton.) 

Clayton. Down, there ! Drop doAvn ! Down, or 
I'll shoot! {Jake drops. Burke attacks Clayton with both 
knives. ) 

Burke. Shoot, but don't miss, Clayton Mc(>lelland, 
or I'll drop you. {Clayton f res. Burke falls.) 

Jake. Don't shoot no more. I surrender ! I sur- 
render ! 

[CURTAIN.] 



THE TWO BONANZAS. 53 



ACT III. 

Scene 1. — Interior Diindas cottage ni mine — Eca and 
3Ia del i n a discovered. 

Eva. 'Lena, does the world scciu brighter than it 
did before yon and Eph met in >."ew York? 
. Mad. Oh, so much. The sun so bright, the sweet 
wild flowers, the pretty birds, the grand mountains 
here so much like Italy — this is like heaven. 

Eva. Ah, 'Lena,love brightens all things. Before 
your brave lover, Eph, came to New York, I envied 
the little sparrows that flitted among the chiumey 
top.s, but since then i^apa is so changed. The morn- 
ing we left New York to come back here to the 
mountains, he patted my cheek as he used to do, and 
said, "Baby, it is getting warm here, wouldn't you 
like a trip to the mountains?" He knew I would be 
wild with delight. Isn't it nice, Lena, and how glad 
I am papa insisted that you should come along and 
be his daughter, as he said, until he could make some 
better disposition of you. Ah, you blush ! Don't 
you suppose papa knew that you and Eph wanted it 
that way. 

Mad. Yes, your fathah very, very kind to me 
and to Eph. Will Eph and Frank come soon ? 

Eva. Yes, I do not think Frank will lose any 
time after Eph has told him the result of his visit to 
New York. I hope Mr. McClelland and his cousin 
will come. I am sure I shall like her as much on 
account of her misfortunes as on account of her kind- 
ness to Frank during his illness. How like a fairy 
story that Feliiie the half breed should prove to be Mr. 
McClelland, a white man, and a cousin to ]Mrs. Jenree, 
ju.st at a time when she was almost without a friend 
in the world. 

^NIad. And how like the work of good angels that 
he should save :Mr. Lelfingwell's liie. Oh, I do feel 
happy and thankful for you. 



54 THE TWO BONANZAS. 



Eva. I thank yon my sister. Wasn't it horrible 
that they should try to murder poor Frank who never 
did any harm to any i:)erson in the world ? And to 
think of the awful fate of Burke Nassgar, and his 
companion in crime, whom Eph says the Vigilantes 
will surely hang. I am glad I do not know him. I 
think a person always pities one they know more 
than they can pity a stranger, don't you? {A knock.) 
Some one knocks. Will you see wdio it is, Lena ? 

Mad. Yes, maybe it is Eph come back. [Opens 
door. ) 

Frank, i. Without.) Good evening Miss, is INIiss 
Dundas in? 

Eva. Oh, it is Frank. 

Mad. Yes, sir, will you come in? 
(Enter Frank.) 

Frank. My little bonanza ! 

Eva. I knew you would come. (2' hey embrace.) 

Frank. Yes, I have just returned from Oro, and 
learning that you had returned from New York, I re- 
solved to brave the frowns of an angry father, and 
here I am. 

Eva. Why — didn't Eph tell you the good news ? 

Frank. No, I haven't seen Eph ; where is he? 

Eva. Oh, of course you could not have seen him ; 
he has gone over to your camj^ after you — and he 
bears good news — guess what ? 

Frank. Oh, I never could guess worth a farthing 
— but I have good news, too — better than you will 
expect. I have been working and bickering and 
negotiating three solid days, but I am through. The 
Eva L. brings Eph and me half a million in cash and 
we retain three-fifths of the stock. That isn't half 
bad, is it ? 

EvA. No, indeed, but I have better news than 
that. 

Frank. Well— and what is it? 

Eva. Papa has capitulated and wishes me to win 
your friendship for him. 

Frank. Well, you have rather beaten me in the 
matter of news, haven't you ? I will give you a mes- 
sage for him. Give him this for me {kisses her) and 
tell him we will bury our little hatchet. 



THE TWO BONANZAS. 55 

Eva. Oh. Frank — excuse me, Lena, I have acted 
like a savage — Miss Ferrara, Mr. Leffingwell. 

Mad. Mr. Leffingwell. 

Frank. (Boning.) Miss Ferrara. 

Eva. {Exultantly.) May I tell him, Lena? 

Mad. Oh, no — well — yes, if you like. 

Eva. Eph and Madelina — Miss Ferrara — are en- 
gaged. 

Frank. It is scarcely the proper thing Miss Fer- 
rara, but I make an exception in this case. [Taking 
her hand.) I congratulate you ; Eph is worthy of you. 

Mad. Thank you. 

(Enter Dundas and Mrs. D.) 

Eva. Oh, mamma — papa — here is Frank ! 

DuNDAS. (Shaking hand.) Frank, my boy, how 
are you ? 

Frank. Almost well, thank you. Mrs. Dundas, 
(shaking hand,) I welcome you back to the mountains. 

Mrs. D. Thank you, Frank, I am glad to find you 
so well. 

DuNDAS. (Brings Frank down front.) Frank, you 
and Eph have proved yourselves men, while I have 
been acting the part of a tyrant. I wanted my way ; 
I admit it — but I admit more : I didn't get acc^uainted 
with a man while I was away who would have done 
more for a friend than you and Eph have done for 
me, while I was trying to be your enemy. Now if 
that is enough, let us be friends. 

Frank. (Taking profered hand.) Say no more. 
Men find their true friends only in adversity. I felt 
assured that time would convince you of my unsel- 
fishness and sincerity, and I hope the future will not 
disappoint you in any good you may think of me. 

Ei'u. ( Without) No, come right on in I I know 
the way, an' they told me, pertickler, not to come 
back without you. Come right in. (Enter Eph. Clay- 
ton and Ellen.) Well, hyar I am, an' I brought — 
Thar's Frank, b' gosh (shaking hands vigorou.sly). God 
bless ye, how are ye— we're all right, an' if 1 didn't 
have the dernedest time in New York. Sold the 
Eva L., didn't ye? Done well enough, tew. Say 
Frank, interduce" this lady and gentleman. I never 
tried to interduce two people in my life 'at I didn't 



56 THE TWO BONANZAS. 

haf to let 'em tell one another their names, an' then 
ax 'em what mine was. 

Frank. { Introduciny Clayton and Ellen.) Mr. Mc- 
Clelland and IMrs. Jenree, Mr. Dundas. 

DuNDAs. ( To Clayton. ) Glad to meet you, sir, as 
Mr. McClelland, though I do part with reluctance 
from my old friend Felipe, the half-breed. 

Clayton. I assure you, sir, I am glad enough to 
bid him a final adieu. 

Dundas. Mrs. Jenree, I welcome you. 

Ellen. Thank you. 

Frank. Mrs. Dundas. 

Mrs. D. {Proffering hand.) Mr. McClelland. 

Clayton. Mrs. Dundas. 

Mrs. D. Mrs. Jenree. 

Ellen. Mrs. Dundas. 

Mrs. D. We were very anxious you should come, 
and I am glad you did not disappoint us. 

Frank. Miss Dundas. 
Eva. Mr. McClelland. 
Clayton. Miss Dundas. 

Eva. Frank has spoken of you frequently in his 
letters — and of you, too, Mrs. Jenree (kmingher); I 
am sure we all thank you for your care of Frank when 
he was ill. 

Ellen. It was nothing, I assure. 
Frank, Miss Ferrara. 
Mad. Mr. McClelland. 
Clayton. Miss Ferrara. 
Mad. Mrs. Jenree. 
Ellen. Miss Ferrara. 

]Mad. I hear so much good about you, I hope you 
will like me. 

Eph. 'M b'gosh ! 

Mad. Why, Eph. {Tapping him with fan.) 

Eph. If Frank can't take a mixed crowd an' 
straighten 'em out quicker'n a piece of double taj^e 
fuse kin set off" a stick o' giant powder. But say, 
Frank, we've got the Tew Bonanzas purty well placed 
— now what'll Ave do ? 



THE TWO BONANZAS. 57 

Frank. {Crossing to Eva.) What do you say, Eva, 
they shall all be our guests this summer. We will 
camp out, climb mouutains, hunt, fish, go boating on 
the lakes, and throw dull care to the winds. What 
do you say ? 

Eva. Yes. Oh, that is just the thing. 

Eph. An' Madelina, what do yew say. This 
autumn they shall all be our guests. We'll take 'em 
back to mother's, in old Varmount, an' feed 'em fruit, 
an' cider, an' doughnuts, an' pumpkin pies, till they 
can't lind no rest this side o' the grave, b'gosh. What 
do yew say ? 

Mad. Yes, yes; let us all go together. 

Clayton. Then, my friends, I am sure my cousin 
will join me in inviting you all to spend the winter 
at our cozy estate in old Virginia, where we will be 
proud to present to our old friends at home, the new 
friends we have found in the Far West. What do 
you say, cousin ? 

Ellen. Nothing would give me greater pleasure 
tlian the assurance that we shall not be parted, at 
least before the Christmas and New Year holidays. 
But, is it all agreed upon ? 

All. Yes, yes. 

Eph. Then let us join in a song, the sentimental 
burden of which is, " Bally for Colorado an' the Two 
Bonanzas," and let everybody join in the chorus. 

POSITIONS : 

Eva. Mrs. D. 

Frank. Ddxdas. 

Mad. Elayton. 

Eph. Ellen. 

SOLO AND CHOParS. 
Air: — ''Marching Through Georgia." 

We sing to Colorado, let no grumbling voices mar; 
We sing her best beloved son, the Kniglit of Pick and Car ; 
We ?ing her noble mountains, too, that loomed so from afar, 
When we crossed the plains for Colorado. 

Cho.— Hurrah, hurrah, the leader of the line; 

The queen of all the states, boys, for gold or silver mine, 
And so we sang the chorus in the days of '69, 
When we crossed the plains for Colorado. 



58 THE TWO BONANZAS. 

We sing her verdaut valleys, and her streams and forests gay; 
We sing the scenes that everywhere Dame Nature does display; 
We sing the hope thnt none who come may e'er regret the day, 
When they crossed the plains for Colorado. 

Chc— 

To Colorado, grand and great we pledge our loyalty: 

Her sword be ever ready, and her people ever free, 

And may her destiny exceed our fondest prophecy, 

When we crossed the plains for Colorado. 

Chc— 

[CURTAIN— THE END.] 



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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



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